


When Destinies Split

by aradian_nights



Series: How the Other Half Lives [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: A new hope, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Luke and Leia Switched, Gen, Luke Organa, Role Reversal, leia skywalker - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-05 17:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 57,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11017986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aradian_nights/pseuds/aradian_nights
Summary: After receiving a desperate call from help from Luke Organa, Leia Skywalker and her master, Ben Kenobi, set out for Alderaan.





	1. follow the messenger

**Author's Note:**

> hello, and welcome to a new hope, twin swapped edition! i read the script of a new hope as i wrote this in order to keep it as authentic as possible, so don't be surprised if you see a line torn directly from the movie. basically i wanted to get this feeling like, you know, circumstances are the same, and the characters are the same, they have just had different life experiences. the last six stories i wrote in this universe have been culminating to this moment! yay!
> 
> i'm not entirely sure if i should make this a very long fic and creep along through the rest of the movies, or if i should continue with my method of a series of fics. i'm leaning toward the latter. 
> 
> this fic will probably update every saturday.
> 
> enjoy!

He watched his fingers tremble numbly as he inserted the stolen plans into Artoo, and began recording his message. His mouth was dry and his voice was shockingly steady as he pleaded to no one. He couldn't help but wonder, as he knelt down and terminated the holorecording, what it would have been like if he had managed to reach General Kenobi himself.

Well, there was no point in dwelling on it.

"Go," he hissed at Artoo. "Go on! Quickly!"

The blaster-fire was growing closer. Luke crouched for a long minute after Artoo had crooned sadly and rolled away. The hem of his long formal dress, a girdled white tunic that reached his shins and provided slits up the sides for mobility, pooled along his feet. He wore white leggings and white boots, and a slim silver circlet burrowed into his hair and fell heavy on his brow. His hood draped gingerly over his head and slipped against his cheeks as he tilted his head to glance around him at the bowels of his ship.

He was not surprised that it had come to this. Just sad and weary.

A few days ago, Luke had been on Base One. He had been observing the panic from the sidelines, checking in after a successful mission to a Tarkintown on Lothal. He'd brought back some new recruits, and had immediately asked for the Specters to process them.

"Specters?" the lieutenant had said absently.

"The crew of the Ghost? I saw it on the landing pad." Luke had felt his heart sinking, but he couldn't quite believe it. "Hera Syndulla? Kanan Jarrus? Ezra Bridger? Sabine Wren? Garazeb Orellios—?"

"General Syndulla is here," the lieutenant said. "The rest, though, I can't say."

Luke had had a series of disheartening conversations that day, beginning with Hera Syndulla. She had turned to look at him, fresh mauve circles digging beneath her brilliant green eyes, and her face brightened and fell swiftly like the beating of wings.

"Luke," she said very softly. He smiled at her, and met her with a great, enveloping hug. She held him tightly, and he considered that something was very wrong. So he squeezed her tighter.

"You don't have to tell me," he said when they finally broke apart. "If it's painful, please don't feel any obligation— I understand."

Hera shook her head. Her lekku swung furiously. "No, it's…" She had pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. "It is what it is. Kanan and Ezra are gone. Sabine is holding down the front on Mandalore. Zeb and Chopper are all that are left."

 _Gone_ , Luke thought. _Gone. Gone, like ghosts._

He did not question what "gone" meant. He merely nodded, and let the subject steer clear of the people they were both grieving.

He bade goodbye to Hera after another long hug. She held him for far longer than was probably appropriate, and he found himself burying his face in her shoulder.

"Ezra loved you," she murmured. "You were all he ever talked about sometimes."

It was embarrassing, how much Luke had visited Kanan and Ezra before his work in the senate had consumed his every waking hour. Specifically Ezra. He told the boy about Ahsoka, and how her recovery was fairing. Every time Luke arrived, Ezra would ask him to spar, and Luke would politely decline. Now he regretted that.

 _Is he dead?_ He wished he were brave enough to ask. _Should I be mourning him? Is it right for me to mourn him?_

"What should I tell Ahsoka?" he decided to say instead.

Hera looked at him. He was no longer shorter than her, and he gazed down into her face. It was always alarming, how relentlessly beautiful and stolid her face was.

She said calmly, "Tell her that the Force is with them. Wherever they are."

Luke suspected that meant that they weren't dead, but they might as well be.

Next he had stumbled into a familiar face while attempting to find his father in the labyrinthine temple. He paused for a moment at the sight of the fur-lined Corellian cut jacket. His own clothing was muted gray fatigues, in attempt to blend in and not be recognized as a prince outright, so the man looked straight ahead without glancing. He was shoulder to shoulder with a petite girl.

Tentatively, he called out. "Cassian?"

The man's head snapped in his direction, his dark eyes shifting uneasily toward Luke's face. They gazed at him dully, the bags beneath his eyes heavier than Hera's, and for a moment there was no recognition. The woman beside him stopped and glanced at him impatiently.

After a few moments of staring, Cassian's brow furrowed. Then his eyes widened.

"Prince Luke," he uttered, lowering his head respectfully. Luke smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I did not recognize you."

"I guess without the fancy cloak, I just look pretty plain, huh?" Luke laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Cassian did not blink. "That's not it," he said. "You've grown older."

The woman turned to look at Luke for the first time, as though Cassian's words had enticed her. Their eyes met, and Luke gazed at her for a moment in bemusement.

"Well… yes…" Luke trailed off, blinking as the woman averted her eyes sharply from his face. "I guess. I mean, it's been, what? Three? Four years?"

"Four. I believe."

"Weird." Luke took a step forward and peered at the woman. "Miss? Have we met before?"

She turned her large green eyes to him sharply. They flickered briefly from his head to his toes.

Her shrug was noncommittal and one-shouldered. "Who's to say?" she said, her core accent flittering against her words. "I've met a lot of people."

Luke studied her. The way her mousy brown hair framed her round, smooth face. He straightened up as it hit him.

"Saw Gerrera," he blurted. The woman stiffened, and her green eyes fell upon his face like talons. However, Luke was a senator. He was undeterred by the dirty look of a small woman, so he continued without wavering. "I remember. There was a summit— this was _years_ ago, before I even really knew what the Rebellion was. But you were there. With Saw Gerrera. He and my father yelled for hours, and you just glared at me. Don't you remember?"

The woman chewed on the inside of her cheek. Her eyes had narrowed.

"No," she said absently, turning away. "You must have me confused."

Cassian caught her arm. "Jyn," he hissed.

"What?" She shot an irritated glance up at Cassian. "You want me to kiss the boots of some prince just because you're pals? In case you haven't noticed, I have better things to do."

"Jyn," Luke recalled. "Jyn Erso. Right? I'm Luke Organa, and I would appreciate it if you stopped pretending you don't know me."

Jyn's jaw shifted, and Cassian turned his face away to hide a smirk.

"That was a long time ago," Jyn said. "I'm not that little girl anymore."

"Tell that to your eyes," Luke told her gently.

Jyn stared at him. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stalked off.

Cassian exhaled a small puff of breath between his teeth. He met Luke's eye and grimaced. "She's a handful," he said, "I'll admit."

"I always wanted to be her friend," Luke said distantly, watching her disappear around the corner. "She was older than me, and was always tossing this knife at a wall, and I just thought she was so _cool_. But she hated my guts because my dad disagreed with Saw."

"Saw Gerrera was always militant to a fault," Cassian admitted. "Though if I am honest, I don't think he was ever treated fairly. His methods may have been extreme, but we are hypocrites if we act like we are better. How high and mighty are we, killers of killers, that we find one form of execution more humane than another?"

Luke wetted his lips. He had not seen Cassian in so long, and he did not remember their conversations being quite like this.

But he couldn't help but nodding.

"I never agreed with Saw's methods," he said.

"You are a pacifist," Cassian scoffed.

"I am an _idealist_ , Cassian," he corrected, "and I will be the first to admit that my ideology is flawed. But it is mine. We all have different ways, I suppose, of dealing with what the Empire has dealt onto us. Saw… I think he had just seen too much. I'm angry, you know, that the Alliance did not attempt to be more understanding. His war started during the Clone Wars, and I don't think it ever stopped."

Cassian looked distantly past Luke's face. "Something I suppose me and the crazy old man had in common," he said lightly. He passed it off as a joke, but Luke could tell how much that struck him.

He had decided to change to subject to soothe the man's mind. "I saw you brought new recruits," he said brightly.

Cassian shook his head. "Bodhi's the only real recruit," he said quietly. He paused, and waved offhandedly. "Bodhi's the pilot."

"The pilot?" Luke's eyes widened. "From the meeting? The one who delivered the message?"

"Yeah. That one. Jyn's not really a recruit, and Chirrut and Baze… I don't know. They don't have anywhere else to go, but I don't know if they'll want to stay here."

Luke mentally tucked away all these names. "Well," he said, "tell them the option is always open. We can always use the extra hands."

Cassian had smiled down at Luke. It was a warm, genuine smile, that reminded him of that night on Naboo. It seemed to reach his eyes for a moment.

And then it was gone.

Luke remembered now that Cassian had been confirmed to be on Scarif. Jyn too. And Bodhi Rook, he had been the pilot, Luke knew. He must have been on the ground as well, because otherwise Rogue One would have gotten out. The other two, Chirrut and Baze, Luke didn't have last names for. He had begun compiling a list of names, but it was hard when he had no contact with the rest of the Alliance, and he was being chased across the galaxy by Darth Vader.

He hadn't even gotten to mourn Cassian yet. Cassian, who was an acquaintance, and whose opinion mattered greatly to Luke. Cassian, who had defied orders to retrieve those plans. Cassian, a six year old on Fest during the height of the Clone Wars, turning Separatist to Rebel without blinking as the galaxy transitioned from Republic to Empire.

Luke listened to the heavy footfalls of plasteel boots against grated metal. He was hiding behind a pillar, his head tilted back toward the ceiling. _I need to buy time for Artoo,_ he thought numbly.

He stepped out from his hiding spot and held his hands up in the air.

"Officers," he gasped, "did you catch him?"

The stormtroopers glanced at each other. Their blasters were pointed at him. Luke started forward at a slow, nonthreatening pace. One trooper's blaster began to droop.

"Catch who?" he asked.

"The bounty hunter!" Luke's eyes widened as he continued his approach. He sounded breathless, and his shoulders shrunk as he shook his head furiously. "He stowed away on my ship— he's stolen something valuable! Isn't that why you're here?"

"Negative," the other Stormtrooper said mechanically. "We are here to take you into custody."

"Me?" Luke huffed. "Are you joking? Listen, he's going to—"

And then, without delay, Luke twisted and curled his arm around the hesitant trooper's, tearing the gun from his grasp and flipping him over his head. The stormtrooper knocked into his comrade, and they both fell to the ground Luke shot at them both blindly before whirling to face the oncoming force. Three new stormtroopers came barreling down the narrow corridor, firing stun bolts at him. He took aim and began to shoot at them, weighing his options as he backed up against a wall. He hit one square in the breastplate, and the others kept shooting, stepping over the fallen bodies of their fellow troopers and pressing Luke into a corner.

 _Please_ , he thought, all his heart pouring into the Force, _please let those plans reach home._

A stun bolt collided with his shoulder, and he found himself slipping to the floor.

* * *

Sweat had begun to pocket beneath the long, dark curtain of her hair. She had decided to wear it down today, as Owen had dragged her along to buy some new droids. It was styled plainly, aside from the braid crowning her head that pushed her hair from her face, and the long, thin braid behind her ear that represented her apprenticeship with Ben.

That morning, through her binoculars, she had seen an explosion in the sky. She hadn't had the heart to tell Owen and Beru though. She didn't know what it had been, and part of her had not believed it had happened.

Not to mention she'd seen Biggs that morning. Biggs, who had been away for a little while training to be a pilot, had sauntered in and told her he was now with the Rebellion. Ridiculous! And people called her rash!

She was hanging back by the speeder, picking the sand out of her nails when her uncle called her over. She sighed deeply, and trudged over to his side.

"We gotta get an astromech," he said. He'd already chosen a gleaming gold protocol droid. Leia glanced at it.

"Yeah?" Leia folded her arms across her chest. She glanced along the line of droids curiously. Her feet dragged against the sand, and she passed by a few wriggling astromechs before stopping. She set her palm on the dome of one and said, "This one."

Owen spared her a dull glance. "I'll bite," he said dully. "Why do you want that one?"

Leia peered up at the sandcrawler. The Jawas had been haggling with Owen for a few minutes while Leia had been daydreaming. Part of her was angry she hadn't begged Biggs to let her stowaway on his ship so she could join the Rebellion too. But then she thought of Ben, of Owen and Beru, and she sighed.

"Don't you think it's a pretty color?" Leia asked her uncle mildly. She knelt down beside the little astro-droid, pressing her cheek to the cool metal of its dome. "Come on, Uncle Owen, you never let me pick the droids."

"You want it because it's _pretty_?" Owen scoffed, his eyes dragging behind his lids. "Typical."

"Is there something wrong with that?" Leia asked in a faux-sweet voice, her smile tight as she looked up at her uncle. His shoulders hunched, and he began to grumble.

"These two then," he said to the head Jawa. Leia smirked, and she patted the top of the astromech's dome. It beeped at her enthusiastically, and she glanced down at it curiously.

"Sorry," she said, "I don't know what you're saying."

"Oh!" The golden protocol droid waddled over to her and he pressed his hand to his chestplate. "If I may be of assistance— R2-D2 has been my companion for many years. He said he appreciates your earnest nature, miss."

Leia raised an eyebrow, and she chuckled nervously. "Right…" She patted the droid absently. She glanced at Owen and shrugged, leading the droids back toward the speeder. "Well, you two look like you could use a tune up. I don't have much time, but I'll do what I can."

She tried not to think about Biggs. It was hard, but necessary. He would make it to the Rebellion, she was sure of it, and when he did she would be glad.

The protocol droid, C-3P0, was incredibly talkative. Leia tuned him out as they made their way back home. There was still sand beneath her nails, and she frowned. She kept her nails neat and short, because Ben told her to, but that never seemed to stop sand from creeping into her cuticles.

"Biggs came home today," she said conversationally.

Owen spared her a glance. "Oh?" He nodded. "How nice. Did he confess his love for you?"

Leia bit her tongue and sunk into her seat. She had told Owen a thousand times that Biggs did not like her like that— that Biggs preferred a bit more masculinity in his pursuit of happiness, if Owen caught her drift— and yet this conversation persisted. It was as if Owen _wanted_ her to marry Biggs or something.

"Sadly," Leia said tightly, "he was too busy to think of it."

"Hm." Owen frowned. "Well, it'll happen eventually."

Leia chewed on the inside of her cheek and glowered out toward the Lars homestead. "Doubt it," she muttered.

Once they made it home, she hopped out of the speeder and quickly led the droids to the garage. She did not bother telling Owen what she was doing, because she did not have the time. She was a busy woman! If she didn't hurry with the droids, she'd keep Ben waiting.

She was quick to fill a tub with oil once she entered the garage, half-listening to Threepio as he rambled about how long it's been since he had a good soak. Artoo was quiet as she allowed the tub to fill and dragged a charger out from a cupboard and plugged him in.

Finally, she collapsed onto a crate and hung her head back in relief. It was nice to have a bit of time to herself. It rarely happened nowadays.

Threepio gushed about the oil bath, and promptly began to complain about the sand. Leia laughed.

"It looks like neither of you are really equipped to handle the climate," she said, resting her elbows on her knees and cupping her chin in her hands. "Your makers must've been shorthanded. Or cheap."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that!" Threepio huffed. "We simply were not made for these conditions, miss. I'm not even sure what planet we're on."

Leia eyed him curiously. "Really," she said. "You're not from here?"

"No, miss."

"Call me Leia."

"Yes, miss Leia."

She studied him briefly before sighing. It was useless to argue with a protocol droid about manners. "Leia," she muttered. " _Just_ Leia."

"I see. Well, as you know, I am C-3P0, human-cyborg relations. And my companion—"

"R2-D2," Leia said, kneeling before the little droid and unplugging him. "Got that."

Artoo beeped softly in response. Leia peered at him, and she dragged her toolbox closer. She took a rag and began to oil the droid's face.

"You've seen some action, huh?" She smiled warmly at the droid. She had not actually picked it because she had thought he was pretty. Though, yes, she thought the droid looked nice. Leia had just felt this was the right choice. "I haven't seen this much carbon scoring since Ben took our speeder to Mos Espa for a weekend."

"With what we've been through," Threepio sighed, "it's amazing we are in the condition we are in, what with the Rebellion and all."

Leia spared him a glance. "Really," she said dryly. "You two are part of the Rebellion?"

"Certainly, miss Leia."

She exhaled softly through her nose, and she shrugged. "Well, I guess that explains the scoring, and why you're so odd." She tapped Artoo's neck, and bit her lip. "Buddy, you've got something wedged in there real tight. Hold on."

She dug through her toolbox and produced a pick that was normally used to chip rust out of the crevices of a droid's plating. She dug it into a spot between Artoo's dome and body, and wriggled it. The fragment shifted, and Leia scraped at it carefully. It popped out and she caught it in her hands triumphantly.

Then she jumped up, backing away uncertainly as Artoo's holoprojector leapt into life. A projection of a boy shivered and glowed mutely in the dimness of the garage. He was gazing sadly ahead, his hair hidden by a white hood. His voice was desperate and imploring.

"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said, "you're my only hope."

Leia stood, gripping the pick in her left hand and swallowing down a great deal of doubt and suspicion. Her mind was reeling, her eyes glued to the boy's face, and she closed her eyes as his voice echoed in her ears over and over and over.

"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope."

She took a deep breath.

"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope."

She shook her head furiously.

"What is this?" she demanded, pointing to the hologram.

Threepio looked baffled. He peered down at Artoo, who whirred sheepishly.

"What is _what_?" Threepio hissed, translating Artoo's bluff. "She asked you a question! What's that?" He jerked a finger at the boy.

Artoo's whistle was bright and unassuming. His dome swiveled, as though glancing at the hologram, and he beeped again.

"Oh," Threepio sighed, "he said it's nothing. Just old data. Pay no mind."

Leia's jaw shifted irritably. " _Right_ ," she murmured. She pointed to the boy, and looked down at Artoo seriously. "Who is he? Is he a rebel?"

Artoo looked at her, and he beeped at her curiously.

"Rebel?" Threepio translated. "I don't know any rebels."

"You _literally_ just said you were in the Rebellion," Leia said, frustrated. She folded her arms across her chest and glared down at the little astromech. "Play back the entire thing, I want to hear it."

The message simply continued playing on a loop. It grated her nerves, hearing the boy utter the same phrase over and over. Especially because she _knew_ who he was talking about, and she could not quite believe what was happening.

 _I did tell Ezra that he could contact me if he was in trouble,_ she thought, _if they really needed me and Ben. But this? This is on the nose._

Also, she had never seen this boy before in her life. He certainly wasn't Ezra Bridger, the boy she had befriended two years earlier.

"Well?" Leia frowned at the droid. She stepped toward it, bending down to check the quality of the holoprojector, but Artoo rolled back and warbled defensively. Leia stood up and backed away with her hands up. "Are you joking? I won't hurt you!"

"Behave yourself, Artoo!" Threepio gasped. "You're going to get us into trouble."

Artoo's dome swiveled toward Threepio, and he replied in a long series of beeps and boops that Leia could not follow for the life of her. She waited impatiently, her jaw tight as Threepio sighed and turned to her.

"He says he's the property of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a resident of these parts. And it's a private message for him. Quite frankly, miss, I don't know what he's talking about. Our last master was Captain Antilles, but with what we've been through, this little R2 unit has become a bit eccentric." Threepio's translation was quick, and he seemed as irritated as Leia felt, which was a nice source of validation.

She looked down at the little droid, and she pressed her lips together thinly as she studied the droid. He stared up at her innocently. It didn't make any sense. None of it. The boy's voice was in her head, desperate and pleading, and she would not unhear it until she knew exactly what had happened to him.

"You belong to Obi-Wan Kenobi?" she asked Artoo hesitantly.

Artoo whistled brightly in confirmation.

"Yes," Threepio translated.

Leia closed her eyes. Well, she was going there anyway.

"Would you like me to take you to him?" she asked.

Artoo rolled back and then rolled forward, a series of enthusiastic beeps causing her to laugh.

"Okay, okay," she said, waving her hands at the droid. "Just turn that thing off. I'm sick of hearing it."

The boy's voice, the waning sound of someone's final plea, died abruptly. Leia watched his cold blue face flicker out like a light, and she inhaled very sharply. The image of him had burned itself into her vision, branded behind her eyelids. She could not blink without seeing his dimpled chin and big eyes.

"You can stay here if you want, Threepio," Leia said, gathering her things hastily and throwing them into the speeder. She'd packed a snack for herself and Ben earlier that morning, plus some ingredients for dinner. She helped Artoo into the back of the speeder and shot an inquisitive look Threepio's way.

"If it's all the same to you, miss Leia," Threepio said, "I think I'll power down."

"That's fine." She settled into the speeder and waved at him. "If my uncle stops in, tell him I've gone to Ben's."

She was quick about it. Too curious about the contents of Artoo's message, and too restless to tell Ben how strange this day had been, she forced her speeder to go as fast as it could without guzzling all her fuel.

 _This could be a trap,_ she thought _. Using me to get close to Ben. Nobody calls him Obi-Wan anymore._

Something was wrong. She'd felt it when she'd woken up that morning. This day was unlike the others, and she would have to adapt to whatever curveball the Force sent at her.

"This way," she said, parking in front of Ben's hovel and jumping out of the speeder. She entered without knocking, tossing her bag of food onto a small table by the door. Artoo rolled in after her, his dome swiveling around curiously as he absorbed his surroundings. "Ben!"

Her master's voice floated in from the kitchen. "A moment, Leia, if you will be so patient!"

She rolled her eyes and glanced down at the droid. "I'm perfectly on time," she told him, "and he's still making tea. Unbelievable, isn't he?"

Artoo warbled, and Leia smiled down at him vacantly. She sat down in her usual chair and shook her head. "I don't know what you're saying," she said.

Artoo rolled closer to her. He whirred softly, and she watched him with large, curious eyes. She'd never had an astromech quite like this before. Usually they bought droids that were half scrap, and they rarely lasted more than a season. This one, though, was teeming with personality. She smiled at Artoo, and rubbed the top of his dome.

Ben strode in, his threadbare brown robe billowing as he set down two clay cups full of grayish tea. He did not even spare a glance at Artoo before sitting down across from her, crossing his ankle over his knee and relaxing back into his chair.

"I see you brought a companion today," Ben said. He turned his gaze to the droid, and he sipped his tea absently.

"This is R2-D2," Leia said, gesturing toward Artoo and shrugging. "He said he belongs to you."

Ben drummed his thumbs against his cup and peered into it with a raised brow. "Don't seem to remember owning a droid," he said lightly, tossing a glance at Artoo. "Interesting."

Leia picked up her cup and blew on it tentatively. "It's just what he says," Leia said. "Really, I'm not convinced. He's a tricky little droid, and his companion told me they were part of the Rebellion. It could explain a lot."

Ben did not even bother feigning shock. "The Rebellion," he repeated. He blinked, and hummed softly to himself before taking a sip of tea. "Hmm…"

Leia took a small sip and set her tea aside. Artoo was looking between them curiously. "I just saw Biggs today, and he talked about joining the Rebellion," she said. "I don't think it's a coincidence that these droids showed up, Ben."

"You believe the Force brought them to you?"

Leia frowned deeply. "I can't see what else it could be," she said. "I _knew_ to pick Artoo. I felt it in my bones that this droid was the one I had to take home with me. And then he said he knew you, and I thought, well, it could be a trap. But I don't think it is. The message— oh!" Leia twisted in her seat and peered down at the little droid. "Show Ben the message!"

Artoo warbled softly, as the bright image of the boy in white flashed back into existence. The holo wasn't entirely stable, and it flickered as the boy took a deep breath. She noticed a band of something shiny around his forehead, and a few wisps of hair that had not made it under his hood.

"General Kenobi," the boy began softly, his voice strong and level. It sounded as though he was used to talking for long periods and speaking as precisely as possible. "Many years ago you served my father in the Clone Wars. Now he begs you to help him in his struggle against the Empire. I intended to present my father's request to you in person, but my ship has fallen under attack and unfortunately my mission to bring you to Alderaan has failed remarkably. I have placed information vital to the survival of the Rebellion into the memory systems of this R2 unit. I trust you if this message finds you, then you will return him to Alderaan, and my father will know how to retrieve it. I understand that what I am asking of you is dangerous, and you have no reason to risk your life for this shred of a chance that we may prevail, but I am asking you anyway." The boy paused, and he drew a shaky breath. His hands, which had been gesticulating in a persuasive manner, fell into each other. He wrung them nervously.

When he spoke again, his voice was thin and breathless.

"You are a Jedi. You fought in the Clone Wars, and saved so many lives. I have grown up hearing scraps of stories about you, from various sources, and I understand that what I am asking you now is painful. I wish with all my heart that I could see you face to face, to explain how much this means. Not to me, but to the millions of lives that are at stake right now, every second that this information is out of our hands! We must act, or all of our efforts, yours included, will be for nothing. This is our most desperate hour. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope."

The boy's eyes flickered away suddenly, as though he had heard something, and he quickly bent forward to kill the transmission.

They sat in silence as his final words echoed in her brain, desperate and soft.

Ben covered his mouth with his hand. His eyes were clouded with shock and sorrow, though she did not feel it through their bond. He was keeping his emotions to himself, falling into an old rhythm of seclusion. She watched his hand drag down through his beard and down his chin.

His gaze flickered to her eyes. He stood up and spoke very gravely.

"We must go to Alderaan."

Leia nodded. She didn't know why she was nodding. She didn't know if she _wanted_ to go to Alderaan. But she nodded, and she spared a glance outside.

"It's dark," she whispered. Her voice was small and hoarse. "We should wait until morning."

Ben nodded. He paced back and forth, his hand cupping his chin, and he did not let up his shields. Leia chewed on her bottom lip and pulled her knees up to her chin. She didn't know what to do or say to make this better. She had known this boy had been in trouble, but this sounded so much more serious than she thought.

"He was scared," she whispered.

Ben spared her a glance. His eyes lingered on her, and his expression softened.

"Do not worry about him, Leia," he said gently. "He seems resourceful. I'm sure he will be fine."

She licked her lips. _Liar_ , she thought, though she kept the thought to herself.

Artoo whistled, and both Leia and Ben looked at him frantically. Leia's legs dropped back to the floor and she jumped to her feet as another holo burst alight before them. This time a middle aged man appeared, his appearance as stately and regal as the boy's. His shoulders were straight and his chin was high, but his hair was falling onto his forehead and his eyes were sunken into his face. He looked ill and disheveled.

"General Kenobi," the man said in a tone nearly identical to that of the boy. "If you are hearing this, then something terrible has happened to me. Our worst fear has been realized."

Ben lowered himself almost shakily back into his seat. Leia remained standing, gaping at the holo of the man and trying to wrap her head around what she was seeing and hearing.

"Currently I am en route to Mustafar," the man continued, "to retrieve my son. Vader has had him for, if I am correct in my guesstimate, around six standard hours. He was taken from Naboo just before Queen Mandira's coronation, for apparently no reason at all. This message is being recorded merely as a contingency, but if you do receive it, then I must ask you to act. Take the girl away. Hide her family. I believe I won't talk, but I know that I may not have a choice in the matter if the Force comes into play. I am only a man, and I know this is a fool's errand, but I love my son too much to lose him. So brave this storm for me, old friend. Save them. For me. For Padmé."

The holo winked out, and Leia blinked rapidly. She had understood very little of what the man had said, though she assumed "the girl" meant her. Did this man know her somehow?

"What the hell?" she gasped. She looked down at Artoo incredulously. "What the hell was that?"

He warbled a series of beeps brightly.

"What on earth is he saying?"

Ben sighed very deeply. It was a resigned sigh. "He said that this is an old message," Ben said. "It was recorded, but never made it to me. This man, Bail Organa, returned safely after retrieving his son."

"His son is the boy, then?" Leia asked.

Artoo beeped, and Leia knew that it was an affirmation. She nodded. "That's good to know," she said. "But why play it?"

Artoo's reply was clipped and perhaps… irritated? Ben chuckled at it regardless.

"He said that it was for me, so why not?" Ben smiled fondly at the droid. Then his smile fell away, and he shook his head. "This was recorded before the boy's, so he returned home safely. Whatever business he had with Vader…" Ben pressed his lips together thinly. "Well, I'd like to know what happened, but I have to have faith that it resolved itself peacefully somehow, otherwise that boy would not be sending us such a message."

Leia was silent as she allowed it to sink in. She sank into her chair and blinked rapidly at the ceiling.

"It could be a trap," she murmured.

Ben did not respond. Instead he stood up, and he walked over to the basket she had made him many years before out of japor brambles. She chewed on her nails pensively, sand gritting between her teeth as he removed her father's lightsaber and offered it to her.

"Leia," he said somberly. "I think it's time you kept this with you at all times."

* * *

Luke stumbled and bit his tongue as the stormtroopers shoved him forward. He could not keep up with their footing, not after being stunned, and he glared down at his shackled wrists. This reminded him too much of Mustafar. Would Vader take him there now that he actually had proof that he had done something wrong? He felt physically ill, like there was a pressure on his chest and a knot in his stomach.

What mattered was that the droids had gotten away. The plans were gone. They were safe. And Artoo would find Obi-Wan Kenobi, Luke _knew_ it. What mattered now was that Luke did not break under torture. He had been tortured once, by that Inquisitor on Mustafar, but he imagined the torture used under interrogation was much worse.

It did not matter. He would die before he sold out the Rebellion.

The hallway was so bright, and Luke had to tear his eyes away from the scorch marks made by blaster bolts. He had stepped over the body of one of the crew— one of _his_ men. His mouth was dry, and he felt bile burning the back of his throat.

A monstrous silhouette appeared before him, and Luke was yanked to a stop. He gazed up into Vader's mask, and he felt the pressure on his shields, as always. Vader had been viciously attacking Luke's shields for three long years. During senate sessions, dinner parties, balls, social outings. Luke had no peace. The walls in his mind were always up, and he could not afford to let them wear.

"Hello, Lord Vader," Luke said cordially, his smile tight on his mouth. "I suppose we'll be having our usual round-about, then?" He held up his shackled hands and put on a weak, deep voice as he waggled his finger at the air. "'Tell me what I want to know, Prince Luke!'" He settled his hands back before him and returned to his normal voice. "'I certainly don't know what you're talking about, Lord Vader!'"

" _Enough_ ," Vader hissed. His respirator echoed between them in the silence that followed as Luke gazed up at him defiantly. "I am through with your games, your highness."

"Games?" Luke repeated innocently. "Truly, Lord Vader, are you mocking me? You come onto _my_ ship in the midst of a diplomatic—"

Vader cut him off sharply. "You are _lying_ ," he snapped at Luke. "You weren't on any mercy mission this time. You passed directly through a restricted system. Several transmissions were beamed to this ship by Rebel spies. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you."

The pressure on his shields was blinding. Luke's jaw clenched as he stared up into Vader's mask, his tongue behind his teeth and his heart in his throat.

He smiled thinly, and he shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said simply.

Vader reeled back, his fury palpable. The air seemed to grow warmer as he straightened, his shoulders squaring as he jerked a finger in Luke's face.

"You are part of the Rebel Alliance, and a traitor." He waved emphatically. "Take him away!"

Luke felt Vader's eyes on his back as he was wheeled around and shoved forward. He realized how truly and utterly doomed he was just then.

 _I might have to tell him,_ he realized. _But would that save me, or would that damn me?_

Luke clenched his fists and pressed his lips together thinly.

The only leverage Luke had had over Vader in the years that he had known him was the scrap of information about his lost child. So what would Vader do when he found out that the child he had been seeking for three years was Luke?

He'd rather not think about it.


	2. do not hesitate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> technically it is saturday, so i'm not messing up my schedule. i realized i might be busy all day tomorrow, so i decided to update early. yay!
> 
> i am just about done writing the a new hope portion of this fic, and im a little worried about splitting the movies up into three separate fics since this series is already a monster, and i have an idea or two for in-between fics. i want the series to be accessible and easy to read, but i'm used to writing monster length fics. does separating work better, or..?
> 
> anyway, until next week!

Sunlight shifted through the gaps in the blinds and fell heavily upon her face. She woke up without anymore prompting, her body shifting beneath the threadbare blanket Ben had thrown over her. She realized quickly she had fallen asleep here, while Ben had been telling her stories of Bail Organa during the Clone Wars.

She sat up, the woolen blanket crumpling in her lap. Artoo's dome swiveled toward her, and he immediately whistled.

"What?" she murmured, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She took a deep breath and kicked the rest of her blanket back. "We can't go just yet. I have to get some things, and warn Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen."

Artoo's beeps were quick and too excited to be good. Leia frowned at him and cursed herself for not attempting to learn Binary earlier. She should have forced Ezra Bridger to teach her when she had the chance.

"Ben?" she called, padding barefoot into Ben's kitchen and glancing around bemusedly. He had left the kettle on the stove, and there was a plate of cut up fruit left with a note for her. She plucked up a slice and the note and nibbled on it idly. It was still ripe, and the meat of the fruit had a nice snap, so she knew he must not have left long ago.

 _Leia,_ it said, _I have a sneaking suspicion. I have gone to your home. Stay there with R2-D2 until I return._

She chewed thoughtfully. Sneaking suspicion about what, exactly? She wished he would have woken her up before going off to see her aunt and uncle.

While she waited she went through her katas. Her footwork was still a little shoddy, but her grip of Form III was growing steadier by the day. She could block just about any blow Ben threw at her. The trouble was that she still struggled with _not_ switching to a more offensive form in the middle of battle. Ben kept telling her that she had to master one form before she could even begin to attempt another, and even then she would have to master two in order to win a battle while switching forms. Particularly a primarily defensive and primarily offensive form.

Artoo warbled at her, and she paused, her shoulders straight and her lightsaber extended. Despite being a defensive, shielding form, Form III was very light, in an airy sense, on footwork and grip.

"I don't know what you're saying," she told the droid.

The distant hum of a speeder outside caused her to extinguish her saber. She clipped it to her belt and rushed toward the door. The suns were not quite overhead yet, but the heat was radiating from the sands and hit her like an enormous wall when she stepped outside.

"Aunt Beru?" she gasped as her aunt spotted her beside their own battered speeder. Her eyes lit up and she rushed to Leia, enveloping her in a huge hug. Leia clung to her aunt's waist, blinking into her shoulder as she stroked her hair absently.

"Leia," she breathed, "little Leia."

"What's going on?" She pulled back sharply and searched her aunt's face. Artoo wheeled out from behind her and whistled brightly at Threepio.

"I have _not_ been lazing around!" Threepio cried, clearly offended. "What have you been doing? _I_ helped save a whole family!"

Leia held her aunt tightly, and she met Ben's eye as he brought an eopie from around the back of his hovel. Owen was gathering a few bags from the back seat of the speeder and transferring them to the eopie's saddle.

"Aunt Beru?" Leia whispered.

"Darling," Beru said, smoothing Leia's hair down behind her ears and stroking her cheekbones with the pad of her thumb. "We knew this day would come eventually. The day you told us you would be a Jedi, whether we liked it or not— it was inevitable."

"What's happening?" Leia repeated, taking a step back in alarm. A bare hint of childish giddiness rose up within her. "I know _I_ have to leave, but— but I never thought you'd ever come with me!"

Owen paused his handoff of a bag to Ben. They glanced at each other significantly, and Leia's mouth went dry.

Beru cupped her cheek and forced her gaze onto her face. "Leia," she said softly, "we're not coming with you."

Her heart sank. She raised her hand shakily and grasped Beru's, squeezing it tightly. "Then what's going on?" she whispered, her eyes flickering desperately over Beru's face. "Why are you taking your things? Where are you—?"

"It is unlikely that the Empire has given up finding these droids," Ben said, taking the bag from Owen's hands and securing it to the eopie's saddle. "If what the young Organa said is true, then the Empire will not stop chasing them. On our way here we saw the sandcrawler that you bought these droids from, and it had been attacked."

Leia's eyes widened and she stepped back. She looked between Owen and Beru, and she took a deep breath. "Oh," she breathed. "Oh… no… I'm so sorry. I didn't realize— oh, this is my fault…"

"Leia," Beru said firmly, her blue eyes narrowing sharply on Leia's face. "Stop that. This is not anyone's fault. We have had plans for this very situation in place for years— since the day Ben brought you to us, really."

"What?" Leia reeled back and shot a glance at Owen and Ben. "Really?"

"Daughter of a Jedi," Owen muttered. He scratched his head and shrugged. "Listen, we ain't stupid. We knew the Empire would want to get its hands on you if it ever got out. Which is why I never wanted you and Kenobi around each other."

She struggled to wrap her head around his words. Her whole life had been a series of disobeying her uncle, for good and for bad, but she had never once doubted that her interest in learning from Ben Kenobi had been wrong. Not until this moment, seeing fear engrave itself into the faces of her family. If she had seen this outcome half a decade ago, would she still have pursued the path of the Jedi?

The answer was too simple, and it hovered inside her brain heavily.

She hated that she would have done it all the same.

"I never thought it'd happen like this," Leia breathed.

Beru smiled grimly. "It's never easy," she said gently, "to say goodbye. But, Leia, you have been ready for half your life."

Leia opened her mouth to object, and Owen scoffed.

"Don't act like you haven't been plannin' your grand escape since you could _walk_."

"I didn't think it'd happen like this!" Leia cried defensively. "I didn't want you to lose your whole life— your _livelihood_! What are you going to do?"

"We'll get by," Beru told her gently. Leia stared into her big blue eyes, which were as vast and beautiful as the sky above them, and tears sprung up against her lashes.

She sprung forward and threw her arms around her aunt's neck, burying her face in her hair. Beru held her gingerly as she melted into her, her throat tight and her breath gone and her heart beating furiously against her ribs. Beru was the only mother she had ever known. She was soft and sweet and had the gentlest touch.

Knowing you had to say goodbye was so much easier than actually _doing_ it.

"I love you," Leia gasped, squeezing her eyes shut. "I love you both so much."

Beru rubbed her back gingerly. "We'll be alright," she murmured, kissing Leia's hair. "Just be safe. Make us proud."

Leia pulled back, swiping beneath her eyes with the pad of her thumb. "Of course!" she gasped, smiling shakily up at her. She turned to face Owen, who had begun to approach her slowly. She flung herself at him, throwing her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Uncle Owen," she murmured. Owen patted the top of her head gingerly.

"It's…" He sighed, and he took her face in her hands. His expression was grave, but warm. "It isn't your fault, Leia. We love you. We are grateful that Kenobi warned us in time. Nothing matters now but that we are all alive."

"What will you do?" she gasped. "Where will you go?"

Owen frowned and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well," he said, "the Darklighters have always been a friend to us. Hopefully they'll take us in."

"Tell them about Biggs!" Leia piped up. Owen looked down at her quizzically, and she shook her head. "Biggs is joining the Rebellion. If anyone will be willing to protect you, it's them."

Ben stepped forward. He bowed his head respectfully toward both her aunt and uncle. "Once we reach Alderaan," he said, "I will speak to Bail about getting your fake credentials in order, and having you transported there. I'm sure he will be able to give you jobs in the palace."

"Palace?" Beru said faintly.

" _Alderaan_ ," Owen exhaled. He looked like he might be sick.

"Please lie low until then," Ben said, looking between the Larses very seriously. "If you don't hear from us in the next two weeks, then assume the worst."

Beru paled. Her pale eyes darted to Leia's face, but Leia merely lifted her head high and nodded. It was useless to dwell on how dangerous this would be. She was less scared for herself than for her aunt and uncle, who would be stranded on Tatooine until they could work something out with Alderaan's royalty. That thought was scary enough on its own.

Owen's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Right," he murmured. He glanced at his wife, who started toward his side. He gripped her arm, and then pulled her protectively to his chest as he closed his eyes. "Right."

Leia pressed her lips together thinly. She wasn't scared, not to die, or to leave Tatooine. But she was scared of what might happen to these people that raised her if she did not return.

"Leia," Owen said. He had a bag in his hands, and he offered it out to her. "This is all I managed to get from your room."

A sudden lightness fell over her, a giddy blindness of realizing some of her personal history had been saved. She grasped the rucksack gingerly, and she gaped up at her uncle.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"There is something in there," he said. He lowered his head. "Something to remember us by."

And then he turned away. He looked up at Ben, and for a moment there was an uncomfortable silence. Leia saw them then, one man the waves of the sand and the other the hard stone crags of the Jundland Wastes. For so long it felt like they had been split in her mind and in her heart, vying for her attention, picking their battles and leaving her drained. But there was no need. She loved them both dearly, as the father she had never had. They looked at each other, and for a moment all of the bitter tension that had accumulated over the past nineteen years seemed to spool apart.

Then they grasped hands, and nodded to one another grimly.

"May the Force be with you," Ben said.

Owen offered a dull smirk. "You need it more than we do," he said.

And with that, he climbed up onto the eopie. Ben helped Beru up onto the saddle, and she drew her arms around Owen's waist. Her eyes were glued to Leia's face. Fresh tears climbed into Leia's eyes, but she could not tear her gaze away.

"I love you," she uttered, taking a desperate final step forward.

They looked down at her, and they both smiled warmly.

"Be safe," Owen said.

"Be _brave_ ," Beru said. "This isn't goodbye forever."

She stood speechless as Owen tugged at the reins of the eopie, and it skittered across the sand. She was very still as it disappeared around the corner of a crag and her aunt and uncle were gone.

Once they were gone— well and truly _gone_ — she looked down at the rucksack in her hands. She tore it open and poured it open onto the back seat of the speeder. There was an assortment of clothing items— a few pairs of underclothes, her roughspun tunic and blue cotton undershirt, a poncho, a white scarf, a pair of socks. There was also a small model starship— an A-Wing from the Clone Wars. There was a small box, and Leia thought that maybe that was what Owen had been talking about. She opened it, and it was a musicbox. It sung an old slave song, a lullaby for freedmen that Beru used to sing to her. She nearly threw it back into her back right then, her throat tight and her vision bleary. But she soldiered on, and sifted through it carefully. There were a few things inside it. The necklace Owen had given Beru ten years ago for their anniversary, a handcarved japor snippet on a leather string. A hairclip of Beru's from when her hair had been long and soft and blonde. It was leather too, with a wooden pin. Small swirls of designs were carved into its face. And then there was the holodisc on a chain. Leia recognized the disc as something she had gotten from Watto's shop one day with Ben.

She picked it up, and the holo appeared before her eyes. It was herself and her aunt and uncle, smiling sheepishly as though they had not really expected anything to come of this. The holo flickered, and another image appeared. It was her and Ben. She had made him sit still for this on her seventeenth birthday.

The image flickered out, and she flung the chain over her head. She picked up the japor snippet and tied it tight around her neck so the leather string became a choker, and the snippet rested at the hollow of her throat. She gathered the rest of her things up and stuffed them into her rucksack, dropping it at the bottom of the speeder. She left the poncho and the scarf where they were.

She whirled to face Ben, who had been watching her silently. Threepio and Artoo were conversing, but she had since decided to ignore them.

"Let's go," she said.

Ben looked at her. He smiled down at her, and he nodded.

* * *

The cell was clearly designed for minimal comfort and maximum dread. Luke did not know how long he had been wasting away in the drab durasteel prison, but it had been too long. He had paced the length of the cell until his legs cramped, and slept an indeterminate amount of time, and still there was nothing and no one. He tried to meditate, but he became all too aware of Vader's choking presence in the Force, and decided that he would not attempt to access it in any way, shape, or form.

He thought about Ahsoka. Would she be disappointed in him for getting caught? Not that he would live long after the interrogations, but he couldn't help but think that he'd failed her and his father. He had done his best to be the best spy he could be, but it hadn't been enough.

Luke dragged his hands through his hair. The circlet on his head was ornamental, and his mother had told him to wear it out of fear of a situation like this. " _If you are boarded by the Empire, they will know you are a prince, and they will not touch you._ "

Too bad the Empire didn't care all that much about propriety.

When the door slid open, Luke had been resting his head back against the wall, his legs stretched out on the bench. He glanced at the door and watched as Darth Vader descended into his cell. He had felt him approach, the dark shadow that crept through the Force and sucked away all breath and life and hope.

"Hello," Luke said casually. He went back to staring at the ceiling.

The probe droid whirred. Luke did not bother glancing at it.

"Leave us," Vader said to the troopers and officers that had accompanied him. The door slid shut.

There was a stark silence between them. Luke watched the pattern of shadows play on the gray ceiling. His heart was in his throat, and his fear seeped through his shields.

"Your fear betrays you."

Luke's head lolled toward the tall man who had somehow sired him. He smiled. "Betrays me how?"

Vader's breath rattled, and it felt like perhaps it could shake the whole room. "You are not in the position to be making jokes, your highness."

"And yet," he said, "here you are."

Vader did not so much as bristle. He merely stared, the red lenses of his helmet glued to Luke's face. Luke turned his face back toward the ceiling.

"That droid won't work on me," he said.

Vader stood in silence for a moment. Then he said, "I am aware."

Luke closed his eyes. Ouch. This was going to be rough. _If I told him he's my father,_ he thought, _then it won't happen. I'd be okay_.

Unfortunately, Luke knew that there was no way that would end favorably. Luke would be confined to this cell even longer, and the longer he was here, the more likely it was that he would break and tell them what they wanted to know. He'd rather Vader not know and just kill him.

But his heart hurt. His birth father was so terrible, and there was no telling whether the torture would happen if he knew that Luke was his son or not.

He threw his legs over the side of the bench, and he looked up at Vader defiantly. "Well?" He shrugged. "Do what you have to. You know I'll never tell you what you want to know."

Vader inhaled sharply. "You stubborn fool," he hissed. He swept forward, and Luke did not so much as blink as he stooped low before him. "You know where my child is. You know where the Rebel base is. Do you truly think that I will rest while I know you hold all the answers I seek?"

Luke smiled up at him sweetly. "I am genuinely surprised you haven't killed me yet," he said.

"Restraint," Vader rumbled, "is necessary in circumstances like this."

"Yes, yes," Luke sighed. "We've been over this. I don't go blabbing about your secret child, you don't kill my father, but we never worked out that detail about you knowing. Sad for you, good for me."

"I am sick of these games, your highness," Vader spat, snatching Luke by the neck. His head snapped back, but Vader's grip was too strong to allow it to hit the back of the wall. At least, Luke reasoned, his panic dull inside his chest, he was not using the Force to choke him. "You will either tell me where my child is, or tell me the location of your Rebel base."

Luke was startled. He could choose? Not that he _wanted_ to tell Vader either, but if he could get Vader off his back about the Rebellion…

 _It's a trick,_ he realized. There was no way. Vader was just trying to achieve both his goals at once, because Luke had no way of fighting back. He couldn't avoid Vader's demands like he had in the senate. He was trapped.

Luke pressed his lips together thinly. _My father,_ he thought desperately. _This is my father. I can't even bring myself to hate him. What is the matter with me?_

Vader squeezed his neck, and Luke couldn't help but choke a bit, wriggling back and grappling with the arm the pinned him down. He was not going to make it out of here, he realized. Ahsoka would never know what happened to him. His father and mother would spend their whole lives imagining what Vader had done, and they would _know_ Luke knew that this was his birth father, and somehow that made it worse.

Luke hoped that when this was all over, his father told Vader that he had killed his child.

It was the only sense of malice Luke could bring himself to feel.

Vader released him, after half-pinning him to the bench and leaving his throat feeling raw and sore. He took deep, shuddering breaths between coughs, and he shot a terrified glance at the approaching droid. Its needle was lifted up, extending toward Luke threateningly.

"Tell me, your highness," Vader hissed.

Luke didn't know what he wanted. He was so sick of this, of Vader's inability to be a human being, of holding this secret in the pit of his chest and praying it would go away. He was sick of wishing he'd never known, sick of wishing he had told Vader immediately, sick of wondering what might have been, what could of have been.

He closed his eyes and summoned the image of his birth mother. Her painted face and schooled expression. _Give me strength,_ he thought as the needle punctured his neck, and everything was suddenly white hot and screaming. There were stars dancing in his eyes, and not the good kind. It was like he was falling into the center of a red giant, and his flesh was being singed off. A nuclear reaction was happening in his blood, and he would burst soon from the contamination.

 _My mind is a mountain_ , he thought, _I am a mountain. Nothing can get in._

He had no idea how long it went on for, but he felt the needle and he felt the chemicals and he laid there and screamed while Vader watched, and somehow, even then, with his veins trickling fire and his bones writhing beneath his skin, he could not find it in him to hate this man.

Perhaps it was because he had no other emotion aside from delirious agony, but he did not know if he would ever be able to find the energy to despise him.

That didn't stop him from deciding to be utterly cruel.

He decided when the torture was over, he would tell Vader that he was his son. He wondered if the man would even feel guilty.

It didn't matter.

The pain subsided, and Luke took deep gulps of breaths. He shuddered and curled up on the bench. Vader hovered over him for a moment. Luke could not look at him.

 _Say something_ , he thought.

His tongue felt swollen in his mouth.

Then, without another word, Vader swept out of the cell with the IT-O unit floating behind him.

Luke laid on the bench, his body folded into itself, and his lips trembled pitifully. His throat felt raw from the screaming. How much had he screamed? At least he had been aware of the screaming, and he knew he had not said anything in the midst of the blinding pain. Now that the needle was out of his neck, he could think clearer, and the pain had all but subsided. Still, though, his joints shook and his teeth chattered, and he felt so nauseous he might puke over the side of the bench.

"Don't cry," he hissed at himself. His voice sounded whispery and thin. "Don't… don't…"

He closed his eyes. Padmé Amidala's face floated behind his eyes, and he let himself relax. The tears tickled his lashes. Still, he breathed.

It had been his choice. He had let this torture happen.

 _Mother,_ he thought to Padmé— for Padmé was always "Mother" while Breha was always "Mama." _What did you see in him? There has to be something there, or else… you'd never have…_

He wanted to believe it. But every time he met Vader it grew harder and harder to believe that there was something worth loving inside him.

* * *

Leia tugged the thin white scarf further over her hair. Some people knew her here, and she wanted to avoid contact with familiar faces. Mos Eisley was always crawling with every sort imaginable, and she had trouble keeping her head down when she ought to.

She turned her face away when Ben mind tricked the troopers into letting them pass. She'd never tried mind tricking. It seemed like something that would come in handy, though.

"Get out of here," she snapped at a few Jawas that had gathered around and started touching her speeder. "Go! Go on!" She kicked sand at them as they shuffled away, spitting curses at her in their high little voices.

"Those little beings are devils," Threepio declared. Leia spared a glance at him and rolled her eyes.

"They're just trying to survive on this rock like the rest of us," she sighed. She smoothed out her poncho and turned to face Ben. "Do you really think we'll find a pilot who will take us all the way to Alderaan? It's not like it's a skip and a jump."

"Have faith," Ben said, patting her cheek gently as he passed her. She scowled at him, but entered the cantina obediently after him.

Threepio and Artoo entered after her, and the barkeep immediately snapped at her that they were not allowed. Leia stared at him impatiently. It wasn't safe to leave the droids outside. They could be stolen. Unfortunately, this bunch was clearly not the sort she wanted to tussle with, so she sighed and pointed outside.

"Wait for us, okay?" she told Threepio. "Stay close."

"I say," Threepio huffed, waddling away, "is _anyone_ on this planet polite?"

Leia stepped deeper into the cantina, noting how dim and grimy it was. Owen never let her near cantinas when she went with him to Mos Eisley and Mos Espa. She did not sidle up to the bar, but instead kept her eye on Ben as he moved expertly around the bar, speaking at length with whoever he could. It was impressive.

When Ben moved on to a Wookie, Leia blinked curiously at it. She only really had ever seen Wookies in passing. As a child she had always wanted to befriend one, because she liked how furry they were. She imagined this would be something to leave out of conversation if this ended up being their pilot.

Someone bumped into her, and on instinct she skittered back. She found herself being yelled at in some foreign tongue. She stared at the alien dully, and then turned away. Another humanoid caught her arm and spat at her, "He doesn't like you."

"Well, he isn't exactly the galaxy's most handsome bachelor, now is he?" Leia snapped, wrenching her arm from his hand.

"What did you say?" The humanoid's wrinkled face twisted in a sneer. Leia opened her mouth to reply, but yet _another_ man stepped in. A tall human man stepped smoothly between her and the two instigators, lounging against the bar and cocking his head.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked, his voice low and his drawl declaring his status as a ne'er-do-well. Leia scowled at him and folded her arms across her chest.

"Now who are _you_?" the Basic speaking one hissed. The man blinked down at him, and he smiled.

"Just a guy who doesn't appreciate when a pretty lady is being harassed," he said in a cool, smooth voice. Leia blinked rapidly. She was not pretty, and she was wearing a poncho. She looked down and saw that the man was pointing a pistol at the two aliens.

She turned around and walked away.

Ben was by her side before she knew it. It seemed like he had been seconds from intervening by the look on his face.

"I hate men," she hissed as she passed him.

The human man seemed to have noticed she had left, because he called after her. "Hey! Wait a minute!"

She ignored him and marched up to the Wookie. "Hello," she said. It— he?— cocked his head at her. She turned to look at Ben. "Are we doing this? I want to get out of here."

"Yes, Leia. This is Chewbacca. He's first mate on a ship that might be willing to take us."

They led her to a table, and she stopped short. Her eyes narrowed at the man who had just sprawled out inside the booth, and when he spotted her he perked up.

"Well, _hello_ again, dearest," he said with a wry grin.

Leia squinted at him with vague disgust. Ben placed a hand on her shoulder, and she sighed. "Whatever," she muttered. "If it gets us to Alderaan, I guess."

"You know I saved your life, right?" The man jerked his chin toward the men that had been hassling her earlier. "They were gonna shoot you right then and there. Lucky I was there."

"Yes," Leia said through gritted teeth. "I'm sure I was. Can we get this over with?"

The man's eyebrows shot up, and he leaned forward as they sat down. "You sound pretty eager to get outta of here," he said. "Pretty girl like you— got something to hide?"

Leia stared at him blankly.

"Part of the arrangement I'd like to establish is," Ben said, leaning forward, "no questions asked."

The man exhaled through his nose. He half-shrugged, and lounged back again. "Alright," he said. "Han Solo. I'm the captain of the _Millennium Falcon_. Where are we heading?"

The Wookie let out a garbled yell, and Leia blinked up at him in wonder.

"Ah. Right. Alderaan, then." Han nodded. "You're looking for a ride?"

"Certainly," Ben said, "if it's a fast ship."

Han bristled. "Fast ship?" he scoffed. "You never heard of the _Millennium Falcon_?"

"Should I have?" Ben asked tentatively.

Leia pushed back her scarf and watched the exchange go on from there. Something about the kessel run.

 _This guy is full of it,_ she thought dully, smoothing her hair out and examining the end of her padawan braid.

"Local trouble?" Han asked, his eyes shooting to Leia. She spared him a dull glance before going back to retying the red leather cord at the end of her braid.

"Let's just say we'd like to avoid..." Ben paused, and he lowered his chin. "Imperial entanglements."

Han smirked. "Well," he said dryly, "that's just the tick, isn't it? And it's going to cost you something extra. Ten thousand in advance."

That number sunk in, and Leia froze. She said nothing, though her eyes darted to Ben's face worriedly. Ten thousand? Leia had never seen ten thousand credits in her life.

"We haven't much with us," Ben said placidly. "We could pay you two thousand now, and fifteen when we reach Alderaan."

Leia pressed her lips together thinly. What was Ben gonna do? Rob a bank?

Actually that might be kinda fun. She'd allow it.

"Seventeen, huh?" Han looked pensive, his lips quirking up in disbelief. "Okay. You've got yourself a ship. We'll leave as soon as your ready. Docking bay ninety-four."

"Cool," Leia said, hopping up and pulling her scarf back over her head. "Bye."

"Leia…" Ben sighed. He followed her outside as she patted Artoo's head, relieved that he was safe. She even gave Threepio's shoulder a pat. "I know the situation isn't ideal, but—"

"Ben, I was as polite as possible," she told him curtly. "I didn't snap at him, I didn't argue about the price, I didn't even comment about how gross he was being, calling me pretty!"

"Leia," Ben said delicately, "a man called you pretty. You are pretty. I do not see the problem here."

"He was creepy!" Her cheeks burned in shame and embarrassment. "And I am _not_ , Ben."

"Leia, I am not going to play into your teenage insecurities right now."

"Ugh!" She scowled up at him. "Can't you just believe me when I say I found him creepy?"

"I believe you," he said, "and I also believe that if you really did not like what he was doing, you could take care of him in a second. I am not concerned."

Leia frowned. He wasn't _wrong_. "Whatever," she huffed, stomping away. "I still don't like him!"

"He's just our ride, little one," Ben said gently, "you don't have to like him."

"Good!"

There was a short, stiff silence. Ben dragged his hands over her speeder, and he looked at her sympathetically.

"Leia, we have to sell your speeder."

"That's fine, I don't care." She spared it a glance. It needed to go so no one could trace them. She understood that.

Ben, unsurprisingly, knew exactly where to go to sell the speeder. Leia haggled for a few minutes before getting a half-reasonable price, and she shoved the credits at Ben.

"Tell me I'm the best," she said brightly.

Ben counted them, and he did actually look slightly impressed. "The daughter I never had," he said affectionately. Leia was startled as he turned away.

They started down an alley, and Leia slumped. Ben loved her. She knew that. But he'd never called her a _daughter_ before. How was she supposed to react to that?

She supposed he was like the father that had been absent her whole life. Since Owen wasn't a Jedi, he was as close to what her father would have been than anything. Should she be happy? Should she be sad that she'd never gotten to be with her real father?

They reached the dockingbay, and Leia was too distracted to actually glance at the ship. She started forward, and then looked up.

"Oh," she said flatly. " _Damn_ , that's a pile of trash. Is this really it?"

Han appeared from behind the ship, and he scowled at her. "She'll make it point five beyond the speed of light—"

"A lot of good that does us if she falls apart in a hyperlane, sleemo," Leia told him frankly.

" _Sleemo_?" Han puffed up his chest and strode toward her briskly. "Lady, if you think I'm gonna put up with this all the way to Alderaan—"

"Um, _sweetie_ ," Leia said with a bright, fake grin plastered on her face, "you better believe you are, because we're paying you. Now be a dear and don't fucking kill us."

Then she marched up the ramp and ignored the distant sound of Ben sighing softly.

Suddenly Han was rushing past her, and she gaped at him as he began barking orders. "Wait," she gasped, half falling into Ben as the ship began taking off. "What's happening?"

"It appears," Ben said, "we've been found."

" _What_?" Leia twisted to peer into the cockpit. They'd already shot into space. Her first time in space, and she couldn't even enjoy it! "How?"

"It hardly matters," Ben sighed. "You better buckle up."

"No," Leia gasped, breaking away from him and stumbling into the cockpit. "I wanna help. Han! What can I do?"

"You can shut up and sit your ass down, princess!" Han snarled.

"Don't you have guns on this ship?"

"Chewie's working on it!"

"That furball?" Leia pushed her scarf back and clasped her hands together brightly. "Great! I love death, don't you, Ben?"

Leia liked Chewie fine. She thought the Wookie was sweet, though that might just be because she had always liked Wookies. She didn't know what possessed her to insult him, but she did.

Ben merely watched her amusedly.

"What?" she demanded.

"You're getting rather worked up, little one," he said.

For some reason, right now, hearing him call her _little one_ , a nickname that she adored, was not helping.

"I'll deal with you later," she muttered.

Leia watched as two Imperial cruisers explode before her eyes. She gaped.

"There you are," Han said.

"How long before we reach hyperspace?" Ben asked.

Han was moving quickly, his fingers darting across the console. "It'll take a few moments," he said. "We can't be hasty about plugging in the coordinates. It could get messy otherwise."

Leia pulled her poncho over her head and flung it aside. She collapsed into a seat and set her rucksack on the floor.

"Why is that thing flashing?" she asked sharply, pointing to a light on the dashboard.

"Means we're losing our deflector shield," Han replied simply. "Strap in, I'm going to make the jump to lightspeed."

Leia tugged the seatbelts over her and glanced at Ben. He sat beside her, looking as serene as ever.

"We're gonna die, Master," she said flatly.

He spared her a glance, and he smiled in amusement. As though this was all good fun for him.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, little one."


	3. a phantom home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i might just end up updating at midnight every time, because it's easier. thank you for all the feedback! i hope this doesn't disappoint.

Luke had not had the opportunity to admit his parentage to Vader before he'd been dragged out of his cell. He could not very well tell the whole damn world, and there were too many guards. Luke would tell him once Vader took him back. He was playing the conversation over in his head, imagining scenarios where it went well.

They would be outside his cell, and Luke would look up at Vader and tell him that he'd changed his mind. He would tell him what he wanted to know. Then he would go into his cell, and he would tell Vader that it was him. He was the lost child he'd had with Padmé Amidala. After that, he came up with several different scenarios.

Daydreaming of Vader weeping, or of killing him on the spot. Of Vader spitting curses at him, of breaking his arms and cutting off his head. Of Vader falling to his knees and pleading for Luke's forgiveness.

None of this inspired much confidence.

He was scared.

They marched him onto the bridge, and Luke spotted the knife's edge cheekbones of a man with no humor except for the sort you spouted over the casket of a great aunt you did not like.

"Governor Tarkin," Luke greeted politely. "Have you been here the whole time? I'm not sure how I missed you, your voice is so shrill it could shatter glass."

Tarkin spared him a disgusted glance. "Charming to the last," he said with barely reined in disdain. "You have no idea how hard it was signing the order to terminate your life."

Luke tilted his head, and he laughed. Death had long since stopped terrifying him. He was glad it would be over soon, if Vader decided not to save him. "I'm sure it was a truly heartbreaking, Governor," he said flatly. "I wish I had been there to console you."

Tarkin stepped away from him and made a sweeping gesture. "Prince Luke," he said, "before your execution, I'd like you to be my guest at a ceremony that will make this battle station operational. No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now."

Luke smiled faintly. "I'm afraid you've underestimated the innate desire of all sentient beings," he said. "Everyone wants to be free, Tarkin. No weapon can crush the will of the people."

He could feel how unimpressed Tarkin was. _Well,_ he though, _it's worth a shot. I have to stay true to myself in the face of adversity. No use dying with regrets._

"Not after we demonstrate the power of this station," Tarkin said. "In a way, you have determined the choice of the planet that will be destroyed first. Since you are reluctant to tell us the location of your Rebel base, I have chosen to test this station's destructive power… on your home planet of Alderaan."

Luke's mouth fell open. Suddenly he was acutely aware of every eye in the room on him, like he was a test subject in some freakish experiment. His eyes darted from Tarkin to the sight of his planet twinkling like a bright blue jewel outside the wide window. He had not noticed it before.

He knew what this station was capable of. He had been there, at Scarif.

It was then that he became aware of how close Vader was. His massive hands were on Luke's shoulders, keeping him in place.

He shook his head furiously. "No," he managed to choke out. "No, you can't do that. You can't simply _destroy_ Alderaan, it— it's one of the centers of trade and commerce for the entire galaxy! Hyperlanes lead here from all over, there are civilians— Imperial officers— there are off-world politicians on the planet right now! Have you even thought this through? Do you even understand the gravity of what you're suggesting? Nobody will support this!"

"I do not think you understand, Prince Luke," Tarkin said briskly. "The destruction itself is all the support we need. No system will dare object, under the threat of annihilation."

"You cannot destroy world after world after world because they have offended you, Tarkin," Luke gasped, "that's _madness_. Even for you!"

"Shall I test it then?" Tarkin blinked. "Unless you'd like to offer another target— a military target. Then name the system!"

Luke couldn't breathe. He was struck by Tarkin's stare, and by Vader's grip on his shoulders. _Vader_ , he thought numbly. _Can he stop this?_

"Lord Vader," Luke gasped, staring longingly at his home through the window. "Remember what you asked me in my cell?"

There was a stunning pause as every eye in the room swiveled from Luke's face to Vader's. His heart had nearly stopped as he held his breath and waited. It seemed like, for just a moment, Vader was actually weighing the possibility of taking Luke's offer.

And then it ended.

"It is too late for that, your highness," Vader rumbled. "You have signed away your own fate."

"If I tell you will you stop this?" he gasped. He regretted not telling Vader in his cell. If he had, would this be happening?

"What is he talking about?" Tarkin asked sharply. He seemed to consider Vader and Luke for a moment, before he shook his head. "I grow impatient, and I know you are stalling, Prince Luke. So I will ask you once more. Where is the Rebel base?"

Luke's mind was whirring at lightspeed. Terror had struck him immobile. He couldn't breathe, and he couldn't think— that was his home. His father was down there. His father, who had left him to Scarif, to Tatooine, to Obi-Wan Kenobi, who had returned home where he should have been _safe_. And his mother— her round face and dark eyes and melodious voice. He could hear a lullaby in his head, and he wanted so desperately to fall into the deepest sleep.

He had to say something. He couldn't let this happen.

It was not an option to tell them the truth, though.

He remembered Atollon, but that base had been compromised years ago. Then he thought of Lothal, but he remembered Ezra Bridger, and how he had no idea where the boy was. If they combed Lothal and found a Jedi, Luke would never forgive himself.

What had been the base after Atollon, but before Yavin?

"Dantooine," he blurted. "They're— the base is on Dantooine."

There was a breath of silence. Luke found himself shrinking. Vader's grip on him had slackened slightly, as though he had truly believed Luke would have kept silent.

Tarkin looked pleased with him. "There," he exhaled. "See, Lord Vader? He can be reasoned with."

Luke shook his head. He wanted to sink to the floor and cry.

Tarkin turned to the officer behind him. "Proceed with the operation," he said calmly. His voice was so cold and methodical, like a doctor performing a lobotomy. "You may fire when ready."

Luke stopped breathing. There was a pang that struck his heart as panic trickled through him, pure dread rolling onto his tongue as he lurched forward.

" _What_?!" he cried, his voice nearly breaking. Vader had reeled him back in, but Luke had no fear of his birth father, and he lurched forward once more, pushing Vader back with the Force. "Stop! You can't do this, you _can't_ —!"

Vader caught him around the waist and dragged him against his chest. The pressure on his ribs was astounding.

"You're far too trusting," Tarkin told him, sparing him a glance while he fought against Vader's grip. He'd kill Tarkin. He'd do it, if it meant saving Alderaan. "Dantooine is far too remote to make an effective demonstration, but don't worry. We will deal with your Rebel friends soon enough."

Luke wanted to scream at him for making excuses. All Tarkin wanted was to show Luke he'd won this petty little feud of theirs. He couldn't breathe. Vader's arms dug into his stomach, and Alderaan glittered in the sky.

And then, in nothing but a blinding flash of light, Alderaan burst apart before his eyes.

Everything in him felt like it was burning.

His head was bursting too, flooding with screams that burrowed beneath his skin and tore through his bones and ripped him apart from the ribs to the spine and out through his sinew and muscle. He felt everything burn.

He did not realize he was screaming until Vader threw him to the floor.

Twitching feebly, he found his voice had left him. The Force was crying out to him, asking him to make things right, but he did not know how. He sat upright shakily. He could not process— there was nothing— the sky was empty. The window displayed empty stars and sailing rocks.

Vader dragged him to his feet. Luke felt limp as he was half-carried from the bridge.

All the hallways were a blur of gray. He had fire behind his eyes. Green light and dust. He was a million souls flitting beneath his skin. It would not go away.

He was haunted.

"Why didn't you stop them?" Luke whispered.

Vader did not so much as spare him a glance. They had reached the door of his cell. Luke realized quickly how futile this all was. His life, his hopes, his dreams. None of it meant anything. It was like the Rebels on the beach of Scarif. Who would remember their names? Or the names of every single person who had just died?

He was numb to it.

His door slid open, and before Vader could shove him in, he turned to face him.

"I hope you're happy," he spat, glaring venomously into his helmet and wishing not for the first time he could see his face. "You will never know your child. You had the chance. I would have told you. But now you've killed him."

Luke pushed past Vader and stepped into his cell. He felt a tug on the Force, yanking him back, and Luke merely shoved back mentally. He whirled around, his eyes blazing.

"I am not telling you _anything_!" he cried. He was half hunched over as he screamed, his shoulders trembling. The room around him seemed to tremble too. Genuinely. The troopers outside glanced at each other. "I don't care! I don't care what you want! Your child is gone, and you should be thankful that he never got to know his father was a monster like you!"

Vader reached out his hand, his fury filling up the whole room. It was palpable.

Luke felt himself choking. He felt it, and for a moment he welcomed it.

But he did not want to give Vader the satisfaction.

So he flung out his hands and pushed with everything in him, gathering the Force around him and gaining strength from all of the voices he had heard passing through his head. Vader flew back, and the door slammed closed.

Luke sunk to the floor, grasping his throat, and he watched teardrops patter onto the gray plated floor.

* * *

It was difficult to know how long they'd been flying. There were no portholes in the central hold, and the droids had been playing games with the Wookie longer than he'd care to acknowledge. He had tried meditating, but all the Force gave him was drawn out, foreboding whispers. So he sat with Leia's head on his lap and watched her sleep.

Her hair pooled against his legs, and he watched her chest rise and fall beneath his robe. She had been through a lot these past few hours, his small apprentice. Or perhaps not so small anymore.

Obi-Wan turned over her interactions with their roguish pilot in his head. It was hard to ignore the tell-tale signs of attraction, especially when his own meager experience with relationships had started much the same. He could not help comparing their bickering to how he and the Duchess had interacted during that long, grueling year on Mandalore.

He would never tell Leia what he suspected, of course. It was on her to pursue this, whatever it was, and Obi-Wan understood that it was not his place to prevent it. As much as he'd like to. This Han Solo character was much too old, in his humble opinion, for the girl he had half-raised.

Now he wished he had allowed Ezra Bridger to stay longer on Tatooine. At least that boy was her age, and a padawan too. They would have made such a nice pair.

Well, no use dwelling on it.

Han Solo strolled in, sparing him a glance before his gaze settled on Leia's sleeping form.

"Well," he declared haughtily, "she _can_ be quiet."

Obi-Wan stroked her hair absently. "She's had a rough time of it," he murmured. He wedged himself out from beneath her and left her bag full of clothes as a pillow to support her neck. "Any news?"

"We lost those Imperial sluggers," Han said, folding his arms across his chest and smirking. "Didn't I tell you we would? That one didn't believe I could do it." He made a noncommittal gesture toward Leia.

"You'll forgive Leia's rudeness," Obi-Wan said mildly. "She's lived her whole life on Tatooine, and I think she's developed some trust issues. Don't take it personally, she would act this way toward any man."

That was a lie. Leia simply had some good sense to be wary of Han. Of course, Obi-Wan would not admit that.

It was a half-truth, anyway. Leia did tend to have a shorter fuse in regard to men.

"Yeah, well…" Han ruffled his hair absently, and he shot a sympathetic glance Leia's way. "Guess I can't say I blame her. I hate being on the dustbowl as it is, and I'm only ever there a few days at a time."

Obi-Wan spared a small chuckle before he found his whole body growing cold and numb. He blinked rapidly, struck by the sensation of sharp and vivid pain before the screams flooded in. He backpedaled, faintly aware of the ship around him, and he held his head shakily.

"Whoa!" Han took a wide step forward, his arms extended carefully. "You good, old man?"

He struggled to speak. He lowered himself onto a bench just as Leia shot upright and screamed. Han stumbled back, gaping in horror as Leia doubled over and filled the cabin with the shrill, agonized sound of loss and dismay. Obi-Wan's brain was foggy from the voices that had passed through him like a million ghosts, but he managed to reach out and grasp her shoulder faintly.

"Leia," he said softly. His voice was thin. Reedy.

The screams had died, but her shoulders trembled beneath his shaky fingers. He dragged her upright, and her forehead fell limply against his chest.

"Leia," he repeated. "Look at me."

She trembled. "No," she whispered.

"Leia."

Shakily, she pried her face from his chest. Her long, dark hair had spooled over her braided headband and curtained her face messily. Obi-Wan gingerly pushed it back behind her ears and peered into her red, tear-streaked face.

She drew a breath, and she closed her eyes. "What was that, Ben?" she breathed.

Obi-Wan shook his head mutely.

"I wanna know the same thing," Han said sharply. He glanced between them, his expression half-stricken and half annoyed. "What the hell just happened? Did you both have a seizure at the same damn time?"

Obi-Wan shook his head once more. Leia took his hands and squeezed them tight.

"Ben," she gasped, leaning forward. Her eyes became clearer. "Ben, you felt it too?"

"Yes, little one."

It had felt familiar. Like… like simultaneous blaster bolts to the heart, ten thousand of them, all across the galaxy.

Leia shivered, and she wrapped his robe around her shoulders protectively, like it might ward away the evil that had been done.

"I've never felt anything like that before," she said distantly. The tears were drying on her cheeks, like an afterthought. "I thought it was just another nightmare— like the ones I had when I was little, remember?"

Ah, yes. The dreaded nightmares. Obi-Wan had heard her recount his own failures more than once, her little voice absent and her eyes free of strife. She quickly forgot about them, and had no idea their significance.

"No," Obi-Wan said quietly. "That was not a nightmare."

"Then that was real?" Leia's eyes hardened quite seriously, and she searched Obi-Wan's face for answers he could not give. "I— I can't remember what I saw, but I saw something. There was green, and I was screaming. And then I fell down, and I felt so _hopeless_ , Ben, like the whole world had ended."

"I know, little one."

"No," Leia gasped, letting his robe slip from her thin shoulders. She jumped to her feet, albeit shakily, and she glared between him and Han. "You _don't_ know. I wanted to die. I've never, ever felt like that before. I genuinely thought— I don't understand why, but it felt like a relief. Like the pain would go away if I was dead. Ben…"

"Don't dwell on it, Leia," Obi-Wan said sharply. "It will only grow worse if you dwell."

Leia pressed her lips together. Then, absently, she brought her hand shakily to her cheek. She glanced at it in wonder.

"Was I crying?" she said vacantly.

"Do you not remember screaming bloody murder just now?" Han asked flatly. He looked more than a little spooked.

Leia scowled, and she scrubbed at her face violently with the sleeve of her tunic. Obi-Wan could feel her irritation and her fear, and it worried him. Not as much as the disturbance did, but truly… it was hard to ignore how thoroughly this had affected her. He could not place why, either. It was not that she was more susceptible to visions, because out of the two of them, Obi-Wan was plagued by visions far more often. He could not understand this anomaly, and that in itself was truly terrifying.

Han cleared his throat, and he rolled his shoulders back. "Well," he said, "anyway, we should be at Alderaan at about oh-two-hundred."

Leia drew her arms over her stomach and stared at the floor. "Okay," she said. Her voice was quiet. She turned away and disappeared down a hall. Han and Obi-Wan stared after her worriedly.

"That really shook her up, huh?" Han glanced at Obi-Wan with wide eyes.

"It's never happened before," Obi-Wan murmured. "I… I think I understand what might have transpired, but for her to react so strongly… it makes me nervous."

"Maybe go to a doctor?" Han offered, rather unhelpfully. "That ain't normal, buddy."

"It's nothing of that nature," Obi-Wan sighed. "It is merely the Force working through her. It cannot be helped."

"The…?" Han's eyes glazed over for a moment bemusedly before he laughed. "You really believe that shit, old man?"

Obi-Wan stared at Han levelly. "It is all that I have known," he said frankly.

"You pretending you're some sort of Jedi?" Han eyed him uncertainly. Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Not some sort," he said, "but a Jedi, certainly."

"Sure…" Han stuffed his hands in his pockets and smirked. "Where's your laser-sword then, wise guy?"

Leia returned at that moment with a small, crinkly bag of air-sealed junk food. She tossed an airy puff chip into her mouth and unhooked her lightsaber. Obi-Wan watched in amusement as she ignited it and held it precariously close to Han's neck.

"Whoa!" Han held up his hands in surrender. "Whoa, whoa, whoa— fine! I get it! Put that thing away before you hurt somebody!"

Leia pulled the blade from his neck and twirled it expertly before extinguishing it and plucking another chip from inside the bag. She munched contentedly while Han glared at her in disgust.

"This is good," Leia said through a mouthful of rice puffs.

"Did I say you could eat my food?" Han demanded.

Leia swallowed hard, and she stared at him for a long time, mutely glaring until his shoulders drooped. She still had her lightsaber in her hand.

"Anyway," she said, hooking her saber to her belt and shrugging. "You don't believe in the Force, so I don't know why you're opening your big fat mouth."

"Leia," Obi-Wan said mildly. _Why is she so much like Anakin_ , he thought dully. _Force save me, why did you make a clone of him?_

"Darling," Han said with the sort of inflection in his voice that was meant to make Leia feel inferior, "I've been from one side of the galaxy to the other, and I've never seen anything to make believe there's some sorta all-powerful force controlling everything. There's no mystical energy field that controls _my_ destiny."

Leia stared at him blankly while Obi-Wan smiled to himself.

"How old are you?" Leia demanded.

Han glanced at her, taken aback, and he quickly readjusted his expression so it did not seem like he had been thrown off. "Excuse me?" he asked.

"How," Leia said, enunciating very slowly, like she was speaking to a toddler, "old," she punctuated each word with a step forward, "are," she stopped just before him, and smiled sweetly, "you?"

"Thirty standard, princess," Han said with a bite, his smile wide and venomous. "What's it to you?"

"So you were, say…" Leia's eyes flickered up toward the ceiling. "Ten, when the Republic fell? Seven when the Clone Wars started. And you're trying to tell me, that in all that time, with all the holos rolling around of the Jedi fighting, you never once believed the Force existed?"

"Listen here, honey," he replied briskly, jerking a finger in her face. "You don't know a thing about me. You don't know where I come from, and you don't know what the hell I was doing during the damn Clone Wars, so why don't you keep your pretty little mouth shut, and quit stealing my food!"

The Wookie roared from a booth in the corner. Obi-Wan glanced at him, and his smile widened.

"What do you mean, _I'm_ being rude?" Han spat, shooting a furious glare at Chewie. "Whose side are you on?"

Leia let go of her bag of chips and left it to dangle in midair, suspended by the Force. _Children,_ Obi-Wan thought, chuckling while she continued to eat out of the levitating bag. Han had not yet noticed.

"Anyway," Leia continued, "you're from Corellia, and you've been a smuggler most of your life. Probably out of necessity. It's a good lifestyle for you, though. Keeps everyone at a distance, which is a real gift to humanity."

Han turned on her, scowling, but before he could retort his eyes landed on the floating bag. He paused, and he sneered at it. "What the hell?" He tilted his head. "Is this a magic trick?"

The bag flew into his chest, and Han caught it bleakly. He eyed Leia, and then he smirked. "Cute," he said. "No way that was some whacky force, though."

Leia rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless," she said firmly.

Chewie howled, and Leia looked at him curiously. "What'd he say?" she asked eagerly.

Han wrinkled his nose. "You liar," he said. "You've never met a Jedi. Shut up."

Chewie blinked, and he replied curtly. Han laughed, and he waved him off.

"Now I know you're lying!" Han shook his head furiously. "Little green fellow in the Clone Wars… you were on Kashyyyk, during the Clone Wars!"

Chewie's odd roar sounded sad. Leia watched him with large eyes.

"You never said there was a battle on Kashyyyk!"

"There was," Obi-Wan said, recalling the circumstances of the division of Anakin's support network. Yoda to Kashyyyk, Obi-Wan to Uta'pau, Ahsoka to Mandalore. The only one left had been Padmé, and Anakin had always been blind to reason when it came to her. "At the end of the war. It wasn't reported as heavily as the rest, because the Emperor— the Chancellor at the time— decided to seclude the Wookies. His intention was likely to destroy their home and resources to make way for slavers to reap whatever rewards they could."

Chewie stared at him, and replied with a long, sad moan of affirmation.

Han's brow furrowed. "You never told me that," he murmured.

"Maybe he doesn't like to talk about it," Leia snapped. "Kashyyyk, that's where Wookies are from, right? Of course he wouldn't want to say anything!"

"Chewie is my first mate," Han said sharply. "My _best_ mate. I don't need some scrappy little desert rat telling me why he does anything!"

"Desert rat?" Leia hissed, for the first time truly offended. "They're called wamp rats, you idiot. If you're gonna insult me, do it right!"

Obi-Wan massaged his temples and took a deep breath. These two would be the end of him, truly.

A light began stuttering near the control panel, and Han exhaled sharply. He dragged his hand through his hair and slumped forward.

"We're coming up on Alderaan," he muttered.

"Good," Leia sneered. "Soon we'll be rid of you."

"Not soon enough, princess," Han retorted, marching back to the cockpit with Chewie on his heels. Chewie paused to look down sympathetically at Leia. She smiled at him gently.

"Hey," she said to him. "I'm sorry I called you a furball earlier. I didn't mean it."

Chewie howled softly. His massive hand fell upon her head, and he patted it gently.

"I believe he said he understands," Obi-Wan offered.

Leia shot him a disbelieving glance. "You speak his language?"

"A bit."

They watched each other. Then she shrugged and followed Chewie back into the cockpit. Obi-Wan stayed back for a few moments to survey the room. The droids were near the corner, and he did not want to look at them for too long. They stirred up old memories, and he was tired enough of dredging up the past as it was.

He feared the chances of Leia realizing her parentage. Now that he knew Luke had been in contact with Vader, it worried him. This would be the first thing he spoke to Bail about, once they were alone. Because regardless, Luke was gone. Obi-Wan had to accept that quickly. It was a hard idea to swallow, and it scraped down his throat and fell into his stomach like a rock. Luke was gone. He was no longer an option to stake any hope in.

It was all on Leia now.

He was suddenly very thankful she had bullied him into training her three years ago. What if he had waited until the Empire had come calling? That would have been disastrous. How would she be able to defend herself on her own?

Without dwelling much longer, Obi-Wan entered the cockpit. He saw that Leia had acquired a blaster and was examining it thoughtfully.

"Where did you get such a barbaric thing?" he asked her, not looking at Han.

"Our courteous captain gave it to me," she said brightly. _Oh, how quickly you change your disposition in the face of a shiny toy,_ he thought. _Force, I know I've asked you this one too many times, but why did you make me raise Anakin twice?_

"Did he now?" Obi-Wan eyed Han as he avoided glancing up at him. He cleared his throat, and he shrugged.

"The little wamp rat's not gonna last long with a laser-sword and some parlor tricks," he pointed out with a shrug. "Dunno what you guys did, don't wanna know. But from the looks of it, you need all the help you can get."

"So," Leia said with a big smile, "I'm keeping it!" She stuffed the blaster into a holster strapped to the other side of her belt.

Han sighed deeply, and he began flicking at toggle switches. "Sit tight," he said. "Chewie, cut the sublight engines."

Obi-Wan drew his thumb over his lower lip and watched as the hypnotic blue rings of hyperspace fell away, revealing the inkiness of empty space. He blinked rapidly, a cold realization drawing over him as Leia sank into a chair mutely.

Asteroids streaked past them, hammering overhead and along the walls of the ship. Leia leaned forward anxiously, her fingers half-between her teeth as she stared into the space where Alderaan should have been.

"What?" Han said breathlessly, maneuvering sharply around a barreling rock. "What the…? Damn it. Must be a meteor shower. Don't suppose you like wishing on falling stars, eh, princess?"

Leia did not respond. She had her chin in her palm and her fingers in her mouth. Her shoulders were hunched up to her ears as she stared into the glittering mess of asteroids hurling toward them. Chewbacca was taking over several controls at once, rerouting what he could and not responding when Han began to mutter under his breath.

"Something's happened," Leia whispered. She shared a look with Obi-Wan, and her thoughts entered his mind like a child tip-toeing into their parents' room after a nightmare. _We're too late. I feel it, Ben. We're too late._

He did not know what that meant, in the grand scheme of things, but he sent a trickle of soothing energy toward her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"I don't get it," Han declared. "We're in the right place!"

Leia shook her head. "Turn back," she whispered.

"But," Han continued, as if he had not heard her, "there's no Alderaan. What's the big idea?"

"What do we do?" Leia's lip was between her teeth as she leaned forward between Han and Chewie and observed the asteroids as they flew away. "If Alderaan's gone…"

"It's been blown away," Han said, " _completely_."

"What could do that?" Leia gripped the backs of the chairs and shook her head furiously. "An entire planet? That's insane. Ben, did you see anything like this in the Clone Wars?"

"No," Obi-Wan said faintly. He felt lightheaded. Alderaan. That disturbance in the Force had been Alderaan. His friend, his longtime friend and trusted ally, was dead. He knew in his heart that Bail Organa was gone, and it made him feel the fresh sting of loss that he had not quite felt in years. It was stranger, duller than the old wounds that ran so deep. This was a surface cut that threatened to burrow deeper with every passing moment. "Never. This… this was the Empire. They destroyed it."

"With what?" Han asked sharply. "A whole fleet couldn't do that job. Hell, not even a hundred fleets could destroy a whole planet in the time it took us to get here! Not without commotion, and I haven't heard a damn thing on any frequency about this."

Obi-Wan took Leia by the shoulder and pulled her close as a signal flashed on the dashboard. Han glanced at it, and he inhaled sharply.

"Another ship," he muttered. "Okay, maybe they'll know what happened, huh?"

Leia rested her cheek against Obi-Wan's chest as they watched the twin fins of a TIE fighter fly past them.

"It's an Imperial fighter," Ben murmured.

Han slumped. "Damn it," he muttered. Chewbacca howled sharply, and they swerved, the ship buckling under a direct hit.

"What's it doing here?" Leia shook her head. "There's no way that thing came from Tatooine."

"Haven't the faintest," Han said through gritted teeth. "Don't see any stations around, so it _shouldn't—_ oh, where's it going?"

"You can't let it get away!" Leia gasped, pulling away from Obi-Wan and lurching forward. "If it recognized us and tells the Empire—!"

"Yeah, yeah!" Han huffed. "Take it easy! Chewie, jam its transmissions."

"Oh," Obi-Wan sighed, "let it go. It's too far out of range."

"Ben…" Leia gripped the backrests of the seats before her. She gave him a look that startled him.

It was the sort of look that Anakin had always had just before a big space battle. The kind of distant, cocksure glance of someone too young to grasp the complexities of war.

Obi-Wan frowned as they followed the TIE. He was baffled by its appearance. "A lone fighter could not have gotten out here by itself," he said. _Unless it had been stationed on the ruined Alderaan_. But he did not want to dwell on that.

Leia straightened up. "This doesn't feel right," she declared. "We should have turned back."

"I thought you wanted to take out the TIE?" Han snapped at her. "Make up your mind!"

"I'm just saying it doesn't feel right, okay?" she snapped right back. "Go on and shoot the damn thing, then!"

"It's almost in range." Han breathed deeply, and he eased the ship forward. "He's headed toward that little moon."

Leia's brow furrowed, but she stayed silent. Obi-Wan watched the small dot grow bigger and bigger, and something awful occurred to him.

"Alderaan has no moons," he said.

Han shook his head. "Look, I know you're old," he said, jerking his hand at the window. "But you have eyes, don't you? That's a moon."

"That," Obi-Wan corrected, "is a space station."

Leia folded her hands over her mouth. She seemed to be deep in thought, but she was shielding too well for him to know what she was feeling.

Han glanced at him. "That's too big to be a space station," he said.

"Turn back," Leia said. "I have a really, really bad feeling about this."

Whatever courage had been leading Han forward disappeared as the size of the station seemed to hit him. "Yeah," he muttered. "Yeah, you're— Chewie, full reverse! Lock in auxiliary power."

Dread crept toward him as he watched them drift closer and closer to the station. Leia said nothing as they kept going forward. She merely closed her eyes and reached out, her small hand grasping his own. He remembered not so long ago when she had been little enough that this had meant the world. Now she was grown, and it still did.

"We're caught in a tractor beam," Han hissed. "They're pulling us in, there's nothing… I can't help it. I'm sorry."

Leia shook her head. "We'll get out of this," she said. "Somehow. Right, Ben? You've been in worse situations."

"I did survive a genocide," he said grimly.

She blinked up at him. "I… meant space battles, but okay." She nodded. "That too."

"In this situation," Obi-Wan said, "I would recommend waiting. You cannot win a battle against that thing."

"Seriously?" Han looked at him blankly. "You would have us get captured instead?"

"At least we will be living."

"Doesn't sound like you like living, pal!"

"Shut up," Leia said sharply. "We can do it. Okay? Just… just listen to Ben! He knows better than you."

"You wanted to turn back!"

"Of course I did!" Leia inhaled deeply, and her whole body seemed to bolt upright. "This is crazy. Suicidal, even! But if you think I'm gonna lie down and die, you're gonna have a rude awakening. I'll gut that thing from the inside out if I have to."

Han stared up at her. He blinked, and then turned to face the dashboard with wide eyes. "Okay, then," he said. He lifted his hands from the yoke, and held them up in surrender. "Into the belly of the beast we go."


	4. fate's cruel divide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is early. i debated on whether or not to wait until midnight, but my laptop is acting crazy right now, and i have no idea if it will even last until tomorrow, if it's just a weird random incident. it just keeps getting worse and worse. so i saved all my chapters for this story, and hopefully by next week this laptop will either be fixed, or god forbid, i have a new one.
> 
> so enjoy!

They were all tense as they waited to be boarded. Her eyes were on Ben's as they sent soothing feelings back and forth, trying desperately to calm the other. Ben appeared very calm, while she was half hunched over, her fingers intertwined. They peered up through the metal grates as the troopers passed by.

 _Good thing we hired a smuggler,_ she thought to Ben wryly. He smirked at her knowingly.

They poked their heads out once the coast was clear, and Han exhaled shakily. He climbed out first, helping Leia out of the pit in the floor by gripping her arms and dragging her close. She quickly shrugged him off and went to help Ben, ignoring the pointed look Han gave her.

"I use these for smuggling," he muttered, dragging his fingers through his hair. "Damn. Never thought I'd be smuggling myself."

"Always expect the unexpected, Captain," Leia said brightly, steadying Ben and resting her cheek against his arm. Han glared at her.

"This is ridiculous!" He shot a furious glare out toward the exit ramp. "Even if I could manage to take off, there's still the tractor beam we gotta deal with. Damn it!"

Ben brushed past them. "Leave that to me," he said firmly.

Leia gaped at him. "I'll come with you," she said, stepping forward and nearly stomping on his heel when he paused to look back at her.

"No, little one," Ben said gently. He set a soft hand on her cheek, and he smiled. "We must not exert all our resources on one target. You are strong enough on your own that I trust you can navigate through this ship without me."

Leia didn't want to admit how frightened she was, so she took his hand in both of hers, and she nodded. _I hope this plan works, Ben_ , she thought.

 _Just stay with Han, little one_ , he thought back. He seemed tired. She frowned deeply, but did not comment.

She stood aside quietly while Han lured a trooper inside. They had already suspected she would not fit in the armor, so once Han dressed himself hastily, he went out and brought back an officer. Leia had no idea how he had done it, but she did not ask questions as she rushed up to him and clamped her hands over his mouth while Han put a blaster bolt in the back of his head.

 _Cold blooded murder,_ she thought numbly. _I guess this is war._

"There you go, princess," Han said through the tinny stormtrooper helmet. He tossed her the dead man's cap and began to strip the rest of him. She gathered up the clothes in her arms and turned away hastily as she got dressed, keenly aware of Han's eyes on her bare back. _Asshole,_ she thought, her face red and her heart pounding.

When she turned around, the legs of the uniform folded beneath the heavy boots. She stuffed them angrily down into the long neck of the boots, smoothing out the creases and patting down her chest. It didn't look like her breasts were visible, but Ben said it probably didn't matter anyway. There were female officers— it just depended on how attentive the guards outside had been.

Leia threw her hair up into the cap, twisting it gingerly so it all fell flat beneath the gray fabric. Her padawan braid slipped out.

"Undo it," Han advised.

Leia stuffed it back into her cap and glared at him. She pushed the visor low on her face and took a deep breath. "Let's do this," she said.

It turned out the officer had been from the Command Office. Chewie and the droids were already there when she, Ben, and Han rushed in.

"We found the computer outlet, sir," Threepio said to Ben, who immediately began typing away, glancing at multiple monitors and frowning deeply. Artoo started to warble away, and Ben nodded at him.

"Plug in," he said. "He should be able to access the Imperial network."

Artoo obliged, plugging into the socket and fiddling around for a few moments. He then beeped a series of unintelligible beeps.

"He said he's located the main computer to power the tractor beam that is holding the ship here. He'll try to get a precise location to appear on the monitor." Without much of a pause, the monitor lit up. Leia glanced at Ben worriedly. "The tractor beam is coupled to the main reactor in several locations. A power loss of one of the terminals will allow the ship to leave."

Leia relaxed. That was a bit easier than expected. And Ben could mind trick his way out of most situations, right? She exhaled shakily.

"I will go alone," Ben said. "Like I told Leia, it's useless to point all our resources toward one singular goal. Stay here with the droids."

"Wait, you want me to just stay put?" Leia asked sharply. "No way."

"This is not up for discussion, Leia."

"I'm not gonna sit here on my hands until you come back!" She stepped forward, searching his face desperately. "Please let me come with you. You know I can keep up!"

"It is not a matter of your skill," Ben sighed, shaking his head, "but the gravity of the situation. These droids must be delivered to the Rebellion. You know that."

"But—!"

 _Peace, little one_ , his voice drifted into her head lightly. _You know your place is not with me._

"My place _is_ with you!" she gasped. "What are you saying?"

"Our destinies may have been intertwined from the day you were born," Ben said gently. "I watched your mother name you. I brought you to Tatooine as an infant. I watched you grow, and I have never been prouder of anything in my life than I am of you."

Leia stood with wide eyes, gaping up at Ben and forgetting all at once about Han and Chewie. She rushed forward and flung her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. He caught her gingerly, rubbing her back and resting his chin on her head.

"There, there," he murmured. "This may be where our destinies diverge, but know this, Leia. The Force will be with you, always… and so will I."

He lowered his head and planted a whiskery kiss on her hair and then her forehead. She squeezed him tight, letting all of her unconditional love pour through their bond and into his soul. She had been apart from him before, but never like this.

Then he extricated himself from her arms, dragging his callused, wrinkled hands away from her, and he turned away. She watched as he bowed his head and stepped outside the door, her hands still hovering sadly in midair.

When he was gone, she slumped. Her head was swimming, and she felt weak.

Chewie howled, and Han coughed. She spared them a sharp glance. Han swallowed whatever he had been about to say, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Your dad sure is… uh…" He rolled his eyes upward pensively. "Something."

Leia shook her head and adjusted her cap self-consciously. She did not trust her voice to reply so she merely brushed past him. Artoo had begun whistling loudly, his beeping frantic and repetitive. Leia crouched down beside the little droid, and she patted his head.

"What's up, little guy?" she murmured. "What'd you find?"

Threepio waddled closer, his arms lifted up and down wildly. "I haven't a clue, miss. He's saying "I found him," and now he's repeating "he's here," whatever that means."

Leia sat for a moment, her mind reeling as Artoo continued to warble at her senselessly. "Shh," she gasped, rubbing his dome carefully. "Calm down. Who have you found? That boy?"

Artoo's dome swiveled toward her, and he seemed to look right at her before he chirped excitedly.

"He said… yes," Threepio said. "Prince Luke Organa."

"Luke," Leia murmured. She lowered herself further to the ground, her eyes fluttering closed. " _Luke_."

"Prince?" Han said flatly, his eyes narrowing at her. "What prince? What's going on here?"

"Level five," Threepio said, "cell block A A-twenty-three. I'm afraid he's been scheduled to be terminated."

"Terminated?" Leia jumped to her feet, wheeling around frantically. "No way. Absolutely not."

Han caught her arm before she could reach the door, and he shoved her back. "What are you talking about, princess?" he drawled. "Come on. You're not going anywhere."

"Either get out of my way," Leia hissed, "come with me, or _die_ , Solo. I'm not interested in debate!"

"You wanna risk your skin for some rando prince you don't even know?" he snapped.

"These are his droids!" Leia cried, gesturing blindly behind her. "He's the reason we're _here,_ idiot! We have to get him— he'll die if we don't!"

"That's no skin off my back."

"Then stand aside!"

"I'm not letting you go alone!"

"Then come with me," she said heatedly. "I don't _care_ what you do! I just know that I have to do this."

Han studied her face for a long moment. She couldn't find it in herself to feel embarrassed or wrong. She stood tall and defiant, watching him with narrowed eyes.

"Okay," he said finally.

She blinked, shock bleeding through her, and she eyed him uncertainly. "Okay…?"

"Okay." He rolled his eyes and waved at Chewie. "Come on, bud. We're rescuing a prince."

Chewie howled, and Han snorted. "Yeah, I know. I'm surprising even myself today. Let's just get this over with."

Leia felt beneath her uniform to make sure her lightsaber was still there. She took a deep breath and started forward. Chewie said something, and Han paused.

"Who are you callin' a softie?" Han folded his arms across his chest indignantly. "This is a prince, right? Princes got _money_."

"That's true," Leia said flatly. She didn't have the heart or energy to tell him he was the prince of Alderaan, and it was unlikely he had anything anymore.

"So this will be worth it," Han said firmly. "So what's your plan, sunspot?"

"Ugh…" Leia was sick of him trying to give her nicknames. "Um… well, if Chewie's coming…" Leia glanced up at the tall Wookie, and she smiled weakly. "Wanna be our prisoner?"

Chewbacca howled as Leia plucked up a pair of binders and weighed them in her hand.

"You don't have to come," she said earnestly. "We can figure out another way."

Han shook his head and took the binders from her. "It's okay, Chewie," he said, eyeing her thoughtfully. "I think I get it. Don't worry."

"Mistress Leia!" Threepio cried, sounding distressed. "Pardon me for asking, but… suppose Artoo and I are discovered here. What should we do?"

Leia shot him a disbelieving look. "Threepio, you can't lie to save your harddrive," she said. "Don't speak to anyone, and lock the door."

The three of them began toward the door while Threepio sunk back. Han called after them, "And hope they don't have blasters!"

"Don't scare him," Leia hissed, swatting his chest as they crept forward uncertainly into a main hallway. They straightened, Han's grip on his blaster looking sharp and his shoulders squared. Leia kept her hat down and her eyes forward.

"That droid would be scared of its own shadow if I pointed out it had one," Han muttered. "What kind of psychopath built that thing, anyway? That's the work of a true sadist, you know."

"What do you mean?" Leia frowned. "He's very polite. He's a good droid."

"Yeah, but he's hyperaware." Han quieted down as they turned a corner. "Not exactly ideal to have a droid with godddamn anxiety. He needs more therapy than I do."

"At least _you're_ self-aware," Leia muttered. They went silent as another officer passed by. They did not spare them a glance. They relaxed as they reached the end of the corridor and called for a lift. They stopped and waited quietly for it to get to their floor. Leia held her hands folded behind her back stiffly while Han gripped his gun. They stared at each other mutely.

As Imperials passed, she was astonished to see how incredibly stupid they were. They did not suspect a single thing was wrong, not even with a Wookie around. That made her wonder how common it was for these people to take prisoners.

 _This is the Empire,_ she reminded herself. _They're evil. And Wookies have been sold into slavery for decades now._

She felt bad for making Chewbacca wear the binders. If they'd been able, she would have let Chewie disguise himself, and she'd let herself be the prisoner.

The elevator arrived, and they all stepped in casually. Another officer tried to get in after her, but Han quickly waved his away with his gun. When the doors shut, Leia closed her eyes and rested her head back against the wall behind her.

"This sucks," she said.

"You're telling me," Han hissed. "Sweetheart, you owe me big for this. I better get a kiss when this is all over."

"If we're not dead by tomorrow," Leia sighed, "sure. Whatever."

He looked down at her, but she could not see his expression through his helmet. She merely stared ahead of her blankly.

She had no reason to care about what this man thought of her. He was sort of handsome, she supposed, in a rugged way, and he was probably her type if she'd ever had a type to begin with. But she was tired and scared and annoyed, and if this man thought he was going to get anything from her other than a good punch to the jaw, he had another thing coming.

Maybe tomorrow, if they lived, she'd feel differently.

Right now, though, she just wanted Ben.

The elevator stopped. They both held their breath. Leia stared at the number, her mouth dry and her heart thudding in her chest.

"This isn't going to work," Han muttered.

"Shh!" Leia hissed at him.

The doors slide open, and they stood at attention as an officer approached. He did not so much as even glance at Han, and instead addressed Leia directly, his grim face peering down at her with a sneer.

"Where are you taking this…" His eyes flittered up to Chewbacca, and he grimaced. "Thing?"

Leia inhaled through her nose, and she said in the smoothest voice she could muster, "Prisoner transfer."

The officer stared at her blankly. His eyes were clear and colorless, like a drained canteen. "From?"

Leia looked into his eyes, and she said, "A cell. Where do you think he came from?"

The officer looked taken aback while Han cut in quickly, "Block one-one-nine-three. Sir."

The officer blinked at Han, and he nodded curtly. "Yes," he said. "Thank you, trooper. I'll check to see if you are cleared. See, this is why I disapprove of women in the field." He turned away and shook his head. "They get so mouthy."

Chewie roared and broke free of his restraints. Leia sidestepped him so he could get a good grip on the officer's neck.

"Oh no," Leia said in a bored voice, "he's loose."

Chewie grabbed Han's rifle and began shooting left and right.

"Watch out!" Han cried, putting far more effort into theatrics than Leia had even thought to attempt. "He's gonna kill all of you! Run!"

"Ahh…" Leia feigned a bad attempt at fear. "Don't eat me!"

Both Leia and Han tore their blasters out of their holsters and began shooting rapidly, missing Chewie by a long shot and aiming for the cameras around the room. Leia had that job, while Han went for the gates, and some of the men stationed in the security area. She ducked beneath Han's arm and shot a man running away, watching him fall onto his knees and scream. Han drew his arm across her shoulder and shot him in the head.

"Nice," she whispered at him.

"Not such a bad shot yourself, princess."

"Stop calling me that." She shot behind her blindly, listening to the sound of it hitting home, and a body collapsing to the floor.

"But you're so uppity and whiny," Han said with a shrug. "What else am I supposed to call you?"

"My _name_ would be great."

"How boring."

Leia whirled around, her back against Han's and she spotted the last Imperial. He was hunched over the controls, looking ready to press a large button that she suspected was the alarm. She raised her pistol and watched as a blaster bolt slid cleanly through his head.

 _Oh,_ she thought numbly, taking a step back as Han rushed up to the controls. He leapt over several dead bodies without blinking.

There was nothing she could do or say. There was nothing she could feel or pray for that would absolve her of this, or make it better. She had to accept that death would follow here everywhere now.

When she had been little, she had once asked Beru how her family had been freed. Whitesun was a slave name. Everyone knew that. And of course her aunt had been reluctant, but she had eventually sat her down and spoke gently.

" _Freedom is worth the price of one life, or one hundred lives,_ " she said, " _but know this. There is no such thing as freedom without cost. Our gods, the suns and the water and the sands, they are bitter and they are brutal, and they do not give without first tasting blood. That is what freedom is, Leia. Blood, and sand, and the sun on your cheeks when you step outside and there are no shackles holding you here._ "

This is what it took to free Luke Organa. This is what it would take to get them off this space station. This is what it would take to end the Empire.

Freedom was blood. On her hands and on her heels.

Leia walked before she ran, her boots clapping against the durasteel floor. Behind her, Han fumbled over his words, and she heard a blaster go offer.

"Leia!" he yelled down the corridor at her. She froze. He had never actually called her by her name before. "We're gonna have company!"

"Damn it, Solo," she muttered, picking up her pace and dragging her hands along the numbers of the cells. Her heart pounded in her ears. Where was Ben now? He was shielding pretty heavily, and she was doing the same. He'd warned her not to use the Force on Alderaan, and if it wasn't safe on Alderaan, then it certainly was not safe here.

She stopped suddenly, finding herself before a cell that looked just like every other cell in the block. The numbers matched up. She played the information over in her head. _A-twenty-three._ Her blaster felt heavy in her hand as she leveled it at the lock. With a deep breath, she squeezed the trigger, and watched the lock burst into a mess of sparks and smoke. The door slid open.

At first she thought he was sleeping. His body was small on the bench dug into the cell wall, and his hair curled along his forehead and cheeks like dusty blonde wisps. His hair was lighter than hers or Han's, but it was muted by his surroundings. She took a few steps forward into his cell before she stopped, realizing his eyes were resting keenly on her face.

"Tell Vader if he's going to kill me," the boy said softly, "then he better do it himself."

And then he rolled over and turned his back to her.

She stood stunned for a short moment, her blaster drooping in her hand. "Kill you?" Leia shook her head furiously. "No, that's not it at all. You have to get up!"

The young prince did not answer. He laid on the bench, his back turned to her.

"Hey!" Leia dropped her blaster and tore the cap from her head. At the sound of the blaster clattering to the floor, Luke jolted upright. He looked at her, and she saw that his eyes were as bright and blue as the glow of her lightsaber. Her hair tumbled free from its constraints, falling around her shoulders and ears. Her padawan braid slipped back behind her ear, and she felt truly safe for the first time since she had hugged Ben.

The prince stared at her for a moment, his glare slipping away as he peered at her long hair and braids. "You certainly don't follow regulation," he said, "do you?"

Leia rolled her eyes, and she crumpled the cap in her hand and threw it aside. "I'm Leia Skywalker," she said sharply. "This is a _rescue_. Get up! We have to go!"

"I'm sorry, you're who?" He threw his legs over the side of the bench and stood up tentatively. "I've never heard of you."

"I am _Leia Skywalker_ ," she said, enunciating every word while glancing outside the door nervously. "We don't have time to argue about it! Listen, I got your message. The one you sent to Tatooine on R2-D2? Me and Ben Kenobi brought him here."

"Kenobi…" Luke Organa gaped as her, and he stumbled forward. "You mean Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"The very same," she said, grabbing his arm and dragging him forward. She scooped up her blaster as they exited the cell. "Now let's _go_! We really don't have time for this!"

She was still holding his arm when they half stumbled, half ran down the hall right into Han. They gaped as Han shot blindly at an opposing force. Chewie was at his heels. Luke's eyes darted around him in awe.

"What did you do," he gasped, "murder your way down here?"

"Eh…" Leia winced and stuffed the blaster into his hands. "Can you shoot?"

"Yeah?" Luke grabbed her arm and yanked her against a wall. A blaster bolt hiss past the place where she had been standing a moment before. _Oh,_ she thought. _Whoa. Close one._ "Are you part of the Alliance? I've never seen either of you before."

"Don't get used to it, Your Highness," Han said through gritted teeth, shooting bolt after bolt into the security area. Leia glanced around her hastily. There had to be another way—

"Aha!" Leia snatched her blaster back from Luke and shot furiously at a grate beside them.

"You actual madwoman," Han said breathlessly, "what are you _doing_?"

She tossed the blaster back to Luke and pried the grate open. "Saving our lives," she replied curtly, " _obviously_. Now, into the garbage shoot, flyboy!"

When no one volunteered, she flattened her hair behind her ears, and she climbed right on through. The surface of the chute was grimy, and her trousers caught on a number of sticky substances. The smell was a little strong, but nothing compared to the smell of garbage on Tatooine. Anything that rotted in the sun rotted fast and putrid.

She managed to catch herself before rolling into the watery sewage at the bottom of the chute, and instead she perched herself up on a large bag full of waste. She sat and watched as Chewie appeared, and then Luke, and then Han. Chewie and Luke picked themselves up quite easily, but Han slid and rolled over multiple bags of garbage before nearly falling into the sewage.

Leia studied the door from her perch on the top of the garbage.

"Look at that, princess," Han said dryly, "you found a throne."

She threw him an obscene gesture with her finger.

"Truly, what an incredible idea," Han continued. "You're just full of those, aren't you? Well, since you've finally found a home, we'll just be going." He pulled out his blaster and shot the door.

They all cried out at once as the blaster bolt ricocheted rapidly across the walls of the small garbage room, knocking about and nearly swiping Luke across the shoulder before dissipating on the ceiling in a grand explosion of sparks.

"Shit!" Leia stood shakily on the unsteady bags, and she jerked her hand at Han. "What the hell was that? Do you wanna kill us? Really?"

"Oh, keep the melodrama to yourself, darling," Han snapped at her. "It really doesn't suit you. Now, I had it nice and under control until _you_ decided this was our only way out."

"We lost them, didn't we?"

"Not for long," Luke piped up. They both looked at him in alarm, for a moment forgetting he was there. He looked sheepish as he climbed up out of the sewage and leaned against a clean bag. "They will figure out where we went eventually. It's not like we were subtle."

"See?" Han pointed at Luke. "The prince _gets_ it. Your plan was dumb."

"I didn't say that," Luke said flatly.

"You know what your problem is?" Han continued, looking up at Leia with a smirk. "I think you have a problem with me. You should just say it!"

"You want me to tell you I hate you to your face?" Leia asked flatly. "Well. Okay. I hate you." She slid down the mountain of garbage and slid her lightsaber out from beneath her shirt. She'd had it clipped to her back. Just then, there was an awful, shuddering groan that shook the floor beneath them. They all glanced at each other worriedly.

"What was that?" Luke asked softly.

"Don't worry about it," Han said.

Leia looked around, and she exhaled shakily as the walls shook and inched their way closer to the center of the room. The garbage began to squish itself together. Luke gaped, his head move from on wall to the other. She noticed for the first time that he had a slim little crown that circled his forehead. It was pretty and silver, swirling gently like dunes through his sandy hair.

"That definitely isn't good," he said.

"Yeah, well, forget about it." Leia ignited her lightsaber and jumped down into the murky water. It lapped at her imperial regulated boots.

"What the hell?" Han yelped, diving out of the way as she grasped her saber with both hands and drove it into the door. "What are you doing? You're insane!"

"I am saving our skins," Leia corrected, carefully wedging the lightsaber through the metal and carving into the door. " _Again_."

As it melted, the metal hissed and spat while her lightsaber hummed happily in her hands. She inhaled smoothly, feeling her muscles work as she picked up speed and delicately swooped the blade down and around as easily as if she were cutting through butter. She withdrew her lightsaber and placed her hand on the circle she had cut out of the metal door.

Ben had said not to use the Force, but it was an emergency.

She pushed, a bit with her muscle and mostly with the Force, and watched the metal circle shoot out into the hall. It clattered and rolled like a loose coin.

Leia let a sharp breath fall from her teeth, and she extinguished her lightsaber. She stepped up through the opening she had made in the door and hopped right out, smoothing out the wrinkles in her uniform and tossing her hair back over her shoulders.

Chewie was the first one out behind her. He watched her with bright eyes. She smiled at him, and she turned around to face Luke when he slid out of the hole, dusting off his vaguely scuffed white tunic. It was very long, almost like a dress, but with visible trousers beneath long slits to make it slightly more masculine. He didn't seem to mind.

She followed his gaze to her lightsaber. Self-consciously, she tucked it into her sleeve and turned away, starting down the hall.

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" she asked Luke.

"No," he sighed. "I've never been inside before. Just saw it from outside. You _did_ say my droid was here, right? Artoo?"

"Yeah!" Leia smiled at him. "I'll take you to him."

"I wish you hadn't brought him," he murmured.

"Well…" Leia was momentarily stunned, but she recovered quickly. "I was just doing what you said! I brought him to Alderaan! How was I to know that—"

"No, you're right," Luke cut in sharply. "I'm sorry. You're right. I didn't think of that."

Leia shut her mouth. She swallowed down a great sea of guilt and regret as she watched his face smooth over from a brief crumpling of grief and desolation.

"I have no idea how we made it this far with our lives," Han said, slipping out from behind them and throwing his arms around their shoulders, "but I'm feeling good!"

"I'll give you a hint about how we made it this far," Leia replied dryly, "it's me."

"Actually," Luke gasped, turning to face her with the brightest eyes she'd ever seen. "Yeah! You're amazing, Leia!"

She swallowed hard, genuinely not expecting such a compliment, and she rubbed her cheek nervously. "It really… wasn't a big deal. Anyway, let's get back to the droids before Ben finds out we're gone and decides to skin me alive."

"Does this happen to you a lot?" Han asked as they rushed down the corridor. He eyed her suspiciously. "I feel like you're the kind of person that this happens to a lot."

"What," Leia scoffed, "getting captured by the Empire?"

"No," Han said with a sneer, "coming up with shitty plans that blow up in your face."

"I have saved your life _multiple_ times, you actual imbecile!" Leia huffed. Why was this man so infuriating? "You are like a wad of burnt rubber on the sole of god's boot."

"Fancy," Han remarked.

Leia drew her hands over her head and took a deep breath. Luke was watching them vacantly, and he offered a weak smile.

"Are you two… always like this?" he asked.

"Sorry," Leia said, combing stray hair from her forehead. "I know this probably wasn't what you imagined for a rescue party."

They walked briskly, moving from one hall to another and miraculously not hitting a single trooper. Leia realized they'd all been lured to the detention block Luke had been on. They didn't have much time until they'd return, and she tried to hold her shields up while she anticipated a new attack. Not connecting to the Force was harder than she had thought it would be.

"Honestly…" Luke looked down, his hands knotting together and disappearing beneath the length of his white sleeves. "I wasn't expecting a rescue. You had nothing to live up to."

Leia stared at him, not willing to believe that a boy with such a bright, earnest gaze could be so open to the prospect of dying that he had not allowed hope for a rescue.

They slid into a hallway that contained a window overlooking the bay that held the _Millenium Falcon_. Their footsteps were heavy and dull, and Han paused to admire his ship.

"There she is," he said fondly.

Leia rolled her eyes. She dug her commlink out of the pocket of her trousers and clicked it. "Threepio," she said, "you there?"

Threepio's smooth, yet frantic voice replied quickly. " _For the moment. We're in the hangar across from the ship_."

Leia glanced at the window at the _Millenium Falcon_ , and she sighed deeply. "Okay," she said. "We're right above you, then. Let's go, guys."

"Is that really the ship you came in?" Luke asked weakly as they started forward again. He whistled low. "Not to seem ungrateful, but that thing looked like a hunk of garbage."

" _Thank_ you!" Leia shot Luke a grin as Han sneered down at them.

"I hate you both," he decided.

The hallway narrowed and they found themselves clustered together. Fear, Leia realized, had been their one commonality. She clung to Luke's sleeve while he hung close to Han's back. Chewie was at their heels like a giant, matted shield.

Leia's instincts roared into life, the Force pressing upon her shields, knocking furiously like a frantic mother. She slid her lightsaber out from her sleeve as a hoard of Stormtroopers rounded the corner and stop short in shock.

"There they are!" one brave trooper shouted. "Blast them!"

She saw Han raise his blaster, and she stopped to gape at him as he charged the group of them, firing haphazardly without a care in the world.

"Han!" she cried. "Han, get back here!"

Chewie followed him with an earnest little shrug, stepping over a fallen trooper and heading down the hall.

"Han!" Leia started forward, but Luke caught her arm.

"Go back to the ship!" Han called from down the corridor.

"What?" Leia gripped her lightsaber, her jaw clenching furiously. "Han! Hey! That idiot…"

Luke gripped her arm with both hands. "We should go," he whispered. His eyes were gleaming worriedly. "The droids. We can't leave them."

"Yes." Leia sighed, and she nodded. She had to think about the big picture. Running after Han's stupid ass would not save anyone. It would have the opposite effect, really. She touched Luke's shoulder and ushered him the opposite way.

They found themselves running again, Luke keeping close to her and firing backwards whenever he got the opportunity. Leia was thinking fast, skidding down a hallway and skimming the wall with her fingers. Another round of troopers came charging from the opposite way. Leia gaped, and she backed up against Luke. He was still shooting behind them, blaster fire seemingly incessant, ringing in her ears as it hit home.

"Damn it," Leia muttered. She stared at the Stormtroopers before her, and she took a deep breath. They opened fire just as she ignited her lightsaber.

The bolts came in quick succession. She bent her knees to catch the first, a low aimed bolt that would have burned a hole in her knee cap, and then swiftly lifted her arms to deflect another near her stomach. She twisted, catching one toward her hip, then her shoulders, then her knees again. She twirled the lightsaber in her fingers, flinging back bolt after bolt and maneuvering her arms around to catch every molten bullet.

Once she was certain she was clear, she ducked ahead of Luke and began knocking bolts away from him as well. He glanced at her, his expression falling in alarm.

"Leia," he gasped. "What…?"

"Don't ask," she said quietly.

Then she pushed off and slid onto her knees between the Stormtroopers, slicing at their thighs and deflecting bolt after bolt, kicking a trooper down to her height and slicing through his abdomen. She kicked him down and used his falling body to vault onto another trooper, knocking him into a wall. She flipped off the wall and cut through the rifle of a trooper behind her, whose blaster had been pointed at her back. Rounding off the ground, she knocked her heel into his helmet and elbowed the trooper behind her. She extinguished her lightsaber and used it to club the last trooper down, smashing the hilt into the man's helmet and kicking him in the abdomen. He stumbled back, tripping over a fallen comrade, and collapsed to the ground.

Luke stood before her, his blaster gripped loosely in his hands. His eyes were wide, but otherwise he did not seem too surprised.

"Okay," he said. He blinked, and he gestured toward the end of the hall. "Should we keep going?"

Leia wiped a bit of sweat off her brow. "Yeah," she said, slipping her lightsaber back into her sleeve. He offered out his hand to her, and she quickly grasped it.

At this point, Leia understood it was useless to pretend like she wasn't a Jedi. She felt around in the Force for the right way, and she pulled Luke through a hall. They both were breathing heavy, and her palm was damp inside his. If he minded, he said nothing. His eyes roved over every inch of a hall before they even stepped into it.

They stumbled into the hangar very suddenly, hands intertwined and breathlessly blinking at one another. Their eyes met, and they exchanged a look of disbelief, as if to say, _did we really do that?_ Luke laughed, still breathless, and he leaned against her side. She smiled at him.

And then something fell inside her.

Like a pendulum cut loose.

It had been swinging over her, sinking slowly, and now it had dropped and she felt the word on its hinges. It was rusty and grim, and she could not breathe. Luke stiffened beside her.

"Vader's coming," Luke whispered. He tugged Leia forward.

Leia released his hand and whirled away. Something was terribly wrong. There was a fog inside her mind that was drawing darker and drawing nearer. Her feet moved without her consent. Her heart sunk deeper and deeper, dragged down by the weight of a fallen pendulum. This felt so familiar, like she'd seen it in a dream. She crossed the hangar slowly, like a phantom, her feet skimming the floor. Any trooper that approached her was knocked down, her lightsaber ignited and quick to reflect their shots.

Then, without warning, she darted forward and slid through the blast doors.

Her bond was trembling, the danger here shaking the world itself. She had nothing left to lose.

No one was more surprised than Leia when she leapt and landed between Ben and a towering figure, her body twisting to catch a menacingly blood red lightsaber in a vicious slash. Her blue blade hissed and spat as it buckled beneath the weight of it, and Leia felt her muscles clench up, her fingers cramping, her knees trembling as she leaned into her lightsaber with everything in her.

 _Leia,_ Ben gasped into her head.

She twisted her head to stare up at him. He had his lightsaber in hand, but he was not using it. He merely had it grasped before him.

 _Ben!_ She had tears in her eyes she realized. _Ben, let's go. We can run. We can lose him!_

 _No._ Leia's blood seemed to freeze inside her veins, and she felt a cold swooping feeling. She looked up and realized who the inhuman mask before her must have been. _You should not be here. Leia, I love you, but you cannot be here!_

"I…" Leia gritted her teeth as Vader tilted his head and put more pressure on his blade. Her arms were cramping up. "I don't understand! Ben, we have to go!"

"Yes," Ben said softly. He took a deep breath. "Go."

Leia felt something weigh upon her belt, and when she looked down, she found herself sailing off the ground, yanked by the Force into midair. She fell and toppled over onto her stomach, gasping and skittering to her hands and knees.

When she looked up, Ben was smiling at her.

Leia blinked at him confusedly. And then she screamed.


	5. songs of solace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! bad news, my computer was shot. good news, i had enough money saved to buy a cheap laptop. it's a shitty little thing, and i'm still getting used to it, so i've written a lot less in the past week than i would have liked to. but basically the game plan is to write maybe one or two oneshots during the gap between this fic and empire, which will be a lot less reliant on the script of esb than this one. i feel like the events of a new hope are really structured and set precisely, and the rest of the series is just built around it. so with empire it'll be more like, fuck it. 
> 
> enjoy this chapter! i believe the last two chapters are almost double in length in comparison to the other chapters. because i was like, seven chapters. that's it.

The oddest thing about living far past your expiration was not the loss, but the freedom. Luke had no fear. He reached for it in the pit of his chest, and it crumbled and fell way. It was just absent, like the hole in his chest where Alderaan had been.

Leia Skywalker had been the surprise to end all surprises. It was easy to give up hope and relinquish himself to death. His mother and father  _and_  his birth mother were already there. He felt left behind and lonesome here. Even just sitting in that cell for a few hours had been too much for him. It had been so agonizing, waiting for someone to arrive and end his sorry life for good.

Instead of Vader, though, it had been Leia.

Luke had sat up and watched her long hair billow down past her shoulders. He had thought it had been a joke at first. Many of the officers were no-nonsense, but he had friends in the Empire. Truly. He knew that they were people too, even if that was sometimes hard for the Rebellion to accept or acknowledge. It was easier not to put a face to the enemy, to just let them be evil and have no dimensions. Luke had never found that way of thinking fair. War was not so simple.

His father had always taught him that. But now his father was dead.

Realizing Leia was a Jedi did not come so much as a shock to him as it might have if he had never met Ahsoka. His relationship with his bodyguard-turned-teacher-turned-part-time-master had been vital to his survival in the Senate. Luke would never have held up under the pressure of Vader's probing if Ahsoka, in addition to Kanan and Ezra, had not sat with him tirelessly to work on strengthening up his mental barriers.

Leia was just an apprentice, though, like Ezra. She reminded Luke of him in too many ways, and it toyed with a wound that he had been ignoring because of the fresh loss from Scarif and then the deep and numbing anguish that had pierced through him the moment Alderaan had been struck.

Death was no longer an option, so Luke had to go forward.

Luckily for him, Leia was pretty good at going forward. She seemed to have an answer for everything, and it awed him. She moved gracefully, smoothly blocking every blaster bolt that blinked her way. She swung her lightsaber effortlessly, allowing it to arc smoothly and become nothing but a blinding blue blur as it hummed through the air. She had cut through stormtroopers like they were toy soldiers, bouncing around with the agility and dexterity of an experienced fighter, like Ahsoka. Her style was more reserved, though. Luke didn't know how, exactly, because Ahsoka had never told him lightsaber forms. He simply knew the one that he had been taught was the same as Ahsoka's.

When they had finally reached the hangar, he had clung to Leia's sleeve— probably a bit like a child. He was not scared. That was not it at all. Luke had no room left inside him, and yet entirely too much room. The gaps from all that he had lost today could not be filled by something as trivial as fear.

Vader's telltale presence, though, did fill him with something.

Unparalleled sadness.

Despair.

Luke was swept up in the shadows. He baked in the hot, vicious rage of it all. Vader cast out his emotions like delirious cries in the midst of a fever. It seemed like his whole existence was one fever pitch after another, reaching a new height and pushing further and harder until everything overheated and collapsed.

He'd thought warning Leia would make it easier. No one in their right mind would go  _towards_  Vader.

And yet she had.

Luke had stood in shock as she'd gone forward, cutting across the hangar without much resistance from the stormtroopers and officers. Because anyone who attempted to stop her was shot down by their own blaster bolts.

"What?" Han gasped breathlessly, jogging up behind Luke and looking around confusedly. "What's happening? Where's Leia?"

Luke pointed. She had nearly reached the blast doors. Luke spotted Vader, his bright lightsaber casting half the corridor in an eerie red glow. The other half bounced back shivering blue reflections from the light of an elderly man's saber. He and Vader had each other's lightsabers locked together.

"Wait," Han choked out, grabbing Luke's shoulder and squeezing it. "What the hell is she doing? Damn it!"

Luke started forward, and Han reeled him back. When Luke glanced up at Han's face desperately, he saw the fear and devastation there.

"You'll die," Han said hoarsely. He did not look into Luke's eyes, but instead stared forlornly out toward Leia.

Luke pushed Han's hand off him, and he shook his head furiously.

"If I die trying to save her," he said firmly, "it'll be worth it. Get the ship running so we can fly out of here!"

And then he ran. He darted forward, ducking blaster bolts and when he could not avoid colliding into one, he used the Force to nudge it off course. Running toward Darth Vader was never the plan. He had hoped the last time he would ever see the man who had sired him would be at his execution. Funny how things worked out.

Luke stumbled to a stop as Leia cut between Vader and blocked what would have been a killing blow. She did it without thinking, and she  _held_  it. She stared up into Vader's mask defiantly, grasping her lightsaber and pushing back against the weight Vader put on her. Luke knew personally how strong Vader was.

This was beyond impressive. This was miraculous.

It was not hard to figure out that the elderly man was Obi-Wan Kenobi. Luke was close enough that he could see the white of his hair and the lines of his cheeks. He spared a glance at Luke, just once, and his eyes were blue. They widened in alarm at him. Recognition seemed to glitter there.

Ahsoka had spoken of Obi-Wan a few times. When she told stories, she redacted things, so Luke did not know much. However, he knew that Ahsoka had loved him. So had Bail Organa.

Obi-Wan looked at him, and then down at Leia. His eyes softened considerably.

Luke gaped as Leia flew through the air, ripped away from Vader by the Force itself and skidding a few feet away from him. Her lightsaber clattered beside her, extinguished.

Obi-Wan's eyes met Luke's. He nodded curtly.

Understanding the immensity of the final moments before one's imminent death, Luke found his eyes glistening. He nodded right back.

 _Get her away,_  Obi-Wan Kenobi's eyes said.

And Luke looked back, attempting to convey his feelings through his gaze.  _You won't die in vain. I swear it._

Leia looked up just in time to see Vader force Obi-Wan to his knees. Obi-Wan looked to Leia. All he had to offer was a weak smile before Vader's lightsaber sliced through his neck.

When Leia screamed, Luke felt it tear through him like his own larynx was being clawed out. He felt the Force shudder, like a small earthquake, and it tingled his joints and laced down his bones. Obi-Wan's death was magnetizing, like a pit of sorrow drawing in everything and everyone in its path. Luke choked on tears that did not belong to him, and he lurched forward.

Leia had jumped to her feet and attempted to spring toward her fallen master. Luke caught her around the waist and swung her around while she kicked the air wildly. She was still screaming.

He made sure to grab her lightsaber and hook it to his belt while he dragged her away. She fought against him wildly. Her hair whipped against his cheek as her head snapped back toward Vader, trying to catch one last glimpse of Obi-Wan.

Han was standing at the top of the ramp when they reached it. He darted down and snatched Leia by the arm. Luke supported her back while he shot blindly behind him, feeling with the Force and landing a hit on whoever was close enough to aim at them.

"I thought I told you to get the engines hot?" Luke said breathlessly. Leia was no longer screaming as they forced her up the ramp, but she wriggled between them, staring longingly down the ramp as it slowly ascended. When it clicked closed, she dropped to her knees.

"Chewie's got it," Han said, looking down at Leia in shock. "Why is she on the floor? Is she hurt?" He knelt down beside her and grabbed her shoulders. "Are you hurt?"

"Let go of me…" She stuck her hands in his face and shoved him away. He fell to the ground while she struggled to her feet. Luke helped her, and she shoved him away too. "Leave me alone! Both of you!"

And then she marched away.

Han was quick to his feet again. He was already on the move as he began to grumble in response to Leia's grief. Luke followed him mutely, unsure of where he stood with Leia and deciding to take his chances in the cockpit with Han.

"Who does she think she is?" He whisked his fingers through his hair and dropped into the pilot's chair. They were already moving. "We better all be on board. Droids?" Han checked over his shoulder. Threepio and Artoo were in the corner. "Good. Chewie, good. Wamp rat, good. Prince, I guess. Good." He paused. "The old man. He on board?"

"Go," Luke said quietly.

Han glanced up at him. He did not need telling twice.

"Did he at least get the tractor beam out of the way?" Han asked.

Luke lowered himself shakily into a chair as Han lifted the ship up. He found himself dwelling on the sharp presence in his mind, the vicious white-hot prongs that prodded at his shields. Vader wanted in. He wanted Luke to know something desperately. Whatever it was, it was not good.

Yet Luke couldn't help turning around in his seat. He stared into the corner, as though he could see through the ships walls and meet the glassy red lenses of Vader's mask. As if he could see through those too, and see the man beneath them.

The ship jolted forward as it shot through the gate and into space, making a sharp and deliberate turn and shuddering as it transitioned into the wide ringed glow of hyperspace. Once they had jumped, the pressure on his mind broke away sharply, and the relief that poured over him was like cold water over a blistering wound. He had not even realized how badly it had hurt.

He lowered his head into his hands. He felt nauseous.

Han drew his fingers over his lips and chin pensively, staring out into the rings of hyperspace in disbelief. It was clear he had not really known what to expect, but the fact that they had made it was astonishing to all of them. He glanced at Luke, and he frowned.

"You okay, kid?"

Luke massaged his temples, and he shook his head.

"Uh…" Han shifted in his seat. "I've got water?"

"Yeah… yeah, could I…?"

Han stood and walked out into the bridge. Luke sat, his mouth in his hands, and he tried not to think about Obi-Wan Kenobi or, heaven forbid,  _Alderaan_. It was hard enough as it was. Perhaps it wasn't healthy, but for now it was easier for Luke to pretend that his home was still there. That he could go back to his mother and father at any moment. Breha would call him and ask him if he was eating, if his mission was a success, when would he be bringing home one of his infamous partners to dinner. And Luke would get flustered, because he had never been on a date in his life, and he tried to explain that Bail Organa was a senator by definition, and he lied all the time. And his mother would chide him: "Well, so are you!"

Luke took the glass Han offered him in trembling hands. Han stared at him, worry creasing his features as Luke grasped the glass tightly. He was numb. It was easier to be numb. He couldn't think of it right now. He couldn't feel it right now. They still had a war to fight— plans to deliver.

So many had died for this.

Luke had no time for feelings.

He grasped the water tightly, and he brought to his lips. He tipped it back, and it fell down his throat in three gulps. Then he handed the glass back to Han, and he said dully, "Do you have something stronger?"

Han barked a laugh, and he patted him on the back. "I like you, kid." Then he seemed to consider him for a moment. "Are you really a prince?"

Luke rose from his chair, and he turned away. "Not anymore," he said. His voice was flat and level. The fresh pain that had surfaced had to be buried down deeply. He would figure it out, how to feel it, when to feel it,  _later_.

He stepped into the Hold, and Leia did not look up at him. She was sitting at a table, peeling the enamel off the sides. Luke hesitantly sat down beside her.

They sat in silence. There were two lightsabers on the table, the one Luke recognized as hers, and the other—

"He hooked it onto my belt," she said dully when she saw him staring. "Last minute. Guess he didn't want Vader to have it."

Luke swallowed down a bitter comment about Vader. "Smart," he remarked instead.

"Nothing about what he did was smart," Leia snapped. "He went  _alone_  when I'm certain he felt Vader there. The Force— it works strangely, but you can feel people you were close to once, especially if they can feel the Force too."

Luke nodded. He knew this already.

"So he would have known Vader was there," she whispered, sinking into her seat and staring helplessly down at her hands, "and he said  _nothing_. He could have warned us. He didn't. He could have said he would fight him. He  _didn't_. And now he's dead!"

"It was likely not his choice, Leia," he said gently, touching her shoulder was lightly as he could. "You have to understand the thing with Vader is that he thrives on the unexpected. You cannot predict what he is going to do."

"I'm going to kill him," she said.

Luke stiffened. He did not withdraw his hand.

She buckled beneath his touch. Her lip trembled, and she brought her hands shakily up to her face.

"Tell me to stop," she gasped.

"Stop what?" he asked her softly.

"Stop." She dragged her hands back through her hair, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. There were tears glistening in her eyes, and her nose was bright red. "I have to stop. I have to compartmentalize. How are  _you_  dealing with it?"

Luke froze. He looked into Leia's gleaming eyes, noting how deep and earnest they were. A small sob escaped her lips, and it was half a laugh.

"Oh," she gasped. "You're not."

Luke found his lip trembling too. He nearly jerked away when she flung his arms around him and buried her face in his chest. He gingerly wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek on her head and taking a deep breath. Her hair smelled dusty— arid and unscented. There was a braid around the top of her head, and it bit against his cheek. Neither of them moved as they sat and dwelt in their own overwhelming sorrow.

If only for a minute.

The sound of approaching footsteps did not deter Leia, but it did cause Luke to look up. He saw Han saunter in, a huge grin on his face. Luke watched it fall a bit as he observed the two of them hug each other tightly.

Luke pulled back, feeling sheepish and unsure as Leia still clung to him. Her fingers dug into his arms as she raised her face and peered at Han impassively.

Han cleared his throat. He rubbed the back of his head, and he lifted his shoulders up. "Not bad for a rescue, eh?" He pulled on some sort of bravado, false or no, and smirked at them. "Sometimes I even amaze myself."

"You know that we only escaped a battle because your Wookie friend managed to punch in coordinates  _before_  we took off, right?" Luke asked flatly. "Besides, they're clearly tracking us."

"What?" Leia gasped, pulling back violently and gaping at Han. "Shit!"

"Calm down, sweetheart," Han said with a roll of his eyes. He ushered for Leia to hush with a slow wave of his hands. "Nobody tracks my ship. We'll be fine."

"You overestimate yourself," Luke said softly.

"Not me, buddy, just this ship." Han patted a wall affectionately, and he turned to look at them with a broad grin. "Nobody can beat her. She's unlike any other."

Luke swallowed down an argument that he was too tired to make. He did not actually care about how nice this ship was, or how good of a pilot this man was. His home was gone, and it was more than likely that they were leading the Empire right to the Alliance.

 _I'd knock us out of the air if the droids weren't here,_  he thought. He was numb to his own sense of morbidity. They had to get Artoo back to the Alliance, and if that meant leading the Empire to Yavin, then Luke prayed to the Force that they could manage the fight.

"What matters is that we have Artoo," he said quietly. He rose to his feet and stepped away from Leia. "Without him, this would all be a lost cause. But we got him. So there's still hope left."

Han stared at him incredulously, and he shook his head slowly. "What is with you and that droid?" he muttered. "Like, it's been all about that R2 unit and Prince  _whatever_  since this broad walked onto my ship!"

Leia folded her arms across her chest, and her eyes narrowed.

"I know that you seem to forget that there are other things in the world besides you and this ship," she said bitterly, "but here's a lesson for you. Other people matter."

"I was just asking a question, princess," Han said to her in a faux-sweet voice. "No need to get testy."

Luke sighed. These two were a handful when they decided to bicker. "Artoo carries the plans to the battle station we just escaped," Luke explained as Han strode over to them and plopped down beside Leia. She glared at him with unrestrained contempt. Luke rested his hands on the checkered table, testing his weight against it and regaining some semblance of his dignity. When he spoke again, he spoke calmly and evenly, his mind smoothing out behind the barrier of mountains. "I have been a spy within the Senate for the Rebellion for three years. My father entrusted these plans, which hold the schematics and what we hope to be the key to destroying that thing, to me, along with a mission to retrieve a Jedi he once knew when he was Alderaan's senator during the Clone Wars."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," Leia murmured. Her shoulders fell, and she looked down miserably at the checkered table.

Luke nodded to her sadly. "I'm sorry that he died because of my message," he told her softly. "That was never my intention. I had hoped that he would have been able to reach my father on Alderaan, but…"

"Alderaan was destroyed," Leia sighed, dragging her thumb over an uneven strip of enamel and scowling. "Yeah. Fuck the Empire."

"What matters now is that we have the plans," Luke said firmly. "Everyone that died today, and yesterday, and a week ago, and twenty years ago— they did not die in vain. We will remember them as we continue their fight."

"Not me," Han said with a quick and delirious laugh. "No sir, you ain't involving me in your suicidal bullshit!"

Luke stared at him blankly. "You took a blaster and ran into a hoard of stormtroopers," he said, "on one of the most protected battle stations in galactic history. And you are calling me suicidal?"

"Yeah, well…" Han sniffed, flicking his nostrils with his knuckle and scowling up at the ceiling. "I didn't come along to sell my ass for your little revolution. I expect to be  _paid_  for this. All of this."

Luke stood, stunned and confused by Han's declaration. He had not even realized that he hadn't come along of his own volition, like Leia. This was a hired gun. Obi-Wan must have been desperate.

"Oh," Luke said faintly. He blinked down at his feet while Leia scowled at Han, folding her arms across her chest and huffing. It was strange that he could even feel the sting of disappointment anymore. He had not thought himself capable of it. He dragged his fingers from the table, and took a small step back. "Okay. I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

Han stared at him. His brow wrinkled a bit, and he shifted uncomfortably. "Realize what?" he asked.

Luke's eyes flitted up from his shoes, and he smiled softly.

"That you were a coward," he said.

He spun on his heel and left Han to whatever vicious words Leia had for him.

* * *

Leia gaped at Luke as he walked away with his head high and his gait brisk. Beside her, Han had shrunk back as though Luke had lunged at him.

"Wow," Leia said quietly. She did not spare a glance at Han. "You really pissed him off."

Han sneered down at her, and he dragged his arms behind his head. Once he was comfortably taking up nearly all the space in the booth she had been occupying, she sighed and scooted to the edge.

"Well, who the hell does he think he is?" Han snapped. "I'm not some sort of hero, honey, I'm just a guy trying to make a living in this hellhole we call a galactic Empire."

It was difficult to properly acknowledge what she was feeling. She had tried to bury it down, but the sense of loss was too great. Leia felt like she had lost a limb, and she could hardly see or sense anything around her.

But she knew how to get angry.

She lunged forward and slapped him across the face.

His jaw jumped against her palm, and his neck snapped aside sharply. His hair fell haphazardly into his eyes, and his cheek was already bright red by the time she reeled back and leapt to her feet.

"You are such a selfish piece of shit!" she gasped, tears burning in her eyes. Han glanced at her, his dark brown eyes searching her face in disbelief. "Do you even understand how awful you're being? That boy just lost his whole family, his whole life— he lost his whole  _planet_. I don't know how you can just sit there and judge him while you have done nothing of merit in the whole of your miserable existence!"

She watched him sink forward, his adam's apple bobbing as he glared at her. He jerked a finger in her face. "You think you know me, sweetheart?" he snapped. "You don't know a thing about me. Just 'cause I don't wanna die fighting some spoiled little brat's war, doesn't mean I'm the bad guy!"

"No," Leia said coldly, "it just means that you are a worthless coward. Just like Luke said."

She jumped to her feet and gathered up the lightsabers on the table. Han caught her arm and yanked her closer.

"That's not true," he hissed. He stared into her eyes, his jaw tight and his nostrils flaring. "I am  _not_  a coward."

Leia searched his face. She inhaled sharply and leaned very close, so their noses nearly brushed against each other. His eyelashes were long enough that they tickled her cheek.

"Prove it," she hissed. She yanked her arm away and stepped back, deliberately avoiding his gaze as she turned away from him and followed Luke's path back to the cockpit.

Luke was sitting beside Chewie, examining the dashboard thoughtfully. Leia watched him run his hands across the toggle switches and shift his seat back and forth idly. Then she turned around and walked to the fresher.

It was a small room— sort of narrow and tall enough that Chewie could fit in. It was also smelly and a bit underwhelming. She examined her face in the mirror, leaning forward and touching the freckles that dotted her cheeks and nose. These were from spending too much time in the sun, and were already beginning to fade. Next she dragged her hands through her hair, her fingers catching on tangles and snagging roughly.

Her eyes trailed down toward the braid behind her ear. It sat gingerly against the rest of her long, wavy hair.

Ben had braided it for the first time for her the day after he'd accepted her as his apprentice. She had sat on his dusty floor and hummed an old slave song that Beru had sung to her when she'd been a baby.

Her hair had been short then. Almost too short to braid. But Ben had said that all padawans had short hair, and she needn't worry. He had initially been opposed to the braid, but Leia had convinced him after explaining that no one would associate braids with Jedi on Tatooine. It wasn't like she didn't braid her hair every day anyway.

Leia took a deep breath. The tune was floating in her head and shifting like sand on her tongue.

"When I was sent down to the river," she sung softly, twirling the braid slowly around one finger, "to the river, to the river… I saw a sight, it made me shiver, one sad day on the Dune Sea."

She swallowed hard. She could almost feel Ben brushing her hair gingerly.

"The rivers have bled dry, my friend," she half sung, half whispered, "said the Dragons of The End, who delivered me a promise then, that day on the Dune Sea."

She unhooked her lightsaber from her belt and it hissed into life in her small hand. She raised it up and examined it. It was bigger than her fist would ever be, made for a man's fingers to close around it. It was sleek and silver and it bathed the dim, dingy fresher in its soft blue light.

"Where are you," she sung, her voice wavering but truly singing now, "where are you now? The Dragons say you're gone for good, but O Water, tell me how!"

She leveled the lightsaber with her braid carefully. She felt the heat of it at the lobe of her ear, and it tingled.

"The water never answered me," she sang gently, "it is gone forever and now we dream, of days and nights where rivers sang their songs on Tatooine."

Leia paused, her braid along her finger and her lightsaber in her fist. She glanced up at her watery eyes, which stared angrily at a mirror and allowed a single tear to slide against the bridge of her nose and disappear into the snot that glistened in the cleft of her upper lip.

Furiously, she released her braid and bundled up the swaths of her hair into her fist, twisting it once, twice, thrice, until it sat in her fist evenly.

The sound of it sizzling before a thousand threads snapped, and uneven strands of dark, warm hair fell rapidly against her chin, was not as satisfying as she had hoped it would be. She gripped the tufts of shorn brown hair in her white fingers, her knuckles tight and rigid and her nails digging into her palm. Shakily, she lowered both her hands. Lightsaber in one, hair in the other.

She extinguished her lightsaber and dropped her hair, padawan braid and all, into a bin beside the toilet.

"A dream, a dream, you came slowly," she said, her voice soft and reverent, "return what has been stolen from me, alone and adrift I speak to thee, please, oh please return to me, what it means to be free, tonight and every night on the Dune Sea."

Then she lowered her head. She felt around in the Force, and then closed her eyes. This ship, the hyperlanes, the droids and the passengers, they were temporary. So was she.

So she cast her anger and her desolation into the Force.

When she opened her eyes, she was still crying, but she did not feel the raging disgust and pain that had caused it. Her hair tickled her cheeks. The braid around her head had slackened and fallen away.

Leia did what she could to salvage it, trading the headband braid for meeting two short braids halfway behind her head. She kicked her bag, which she had stowed in here before they had landed last time, open at her feet, and used Beru's hairpin to secure it. She was still in the stolen uniform, so she traded her clothing in for the spare blue tunic and woolen smock.

She left the fresher and walked back into the cockpit. Han was there now, explaining the controls to Luke. She tossed her bag onto the ground and threw herself into a seat.

Han spared her a glance, and his eyebrows shot up. "Nice hair, sunshine," he remarked dryly. Leia glared at him.

Luke turned to look at her, and his eyes lit up. "Oh!" he gasped, leaning forward and smiling at her. "It looks nice."

Leia ruffled the singed ends. It probably had been a bad idea, cutting it with a lightsaber. "What were you guys talking about?" she asked.

Luke opened his mouth, but Han cut in sharply. "Your beautiful singing voice, of course." He grinned at her slyly and leaned toward her in his seat. "What were you singing?"

It was hard to contain some of her bare rage as she glowered at him. Luke looked at Han with wide eyes, his hands in his lap.

"Han," he hissed.

Leia ignored him. She shrugged, and she said, "Slave song."

Han stared at her blankly. Chewie turned his head to look down at her, sympathy in his eyes. Luke merely sat and closed his eyes.

"No," Han said, "really."

She gripped the armrests of her seat, and she said fiercely, "I am telling the truth."

"Why would she lie about it being a slave song?" Luke asked Han sharply. "You know Tatooine, I'm sure?"

"Not everyone on Tatooine is a slave, your highness," Han replied briskly. He jerked a thumb back at Leia. "She certainly is not."

Her blood seemed to boil as this conversation dragged on. "My father was," she said coolly.

Han glanced at her, and for a moment his eyes softened. Chewie howled and shook his head, whacking Han's arm. Han hissed, and he glared up at Chewie.

"Shut up," he muttered. "I wasn't being insensitive."

"Yes you were," Luke said.

"You," Han said, pointing at Luke sharply, "need to shut up too. You're downright ungrateful, you know that?"

"I didn't ask you to save me," Luke said with a shrug. "But now that you have, you should consider joining the Rebellion. We're always in need of good pilots."

"Probably because all your good ones die fast," Han mumbled, shaking his head. "Yeah, no thanks."

Luke slumped. He looked like he needed some sleep, or a shower, or both. Leia sympathized with him, but she did not want to think about anything right now except their next destination.

"How long until we reach your friends?" Leia asked Luke, resting her chin in her hands. He looked thoughtfully at the hyperspace rings, and then turned to face Han.

"Shouldn't we be nearing Yavin?"

Han scoffed. "Well," he said, " _yeah_. We'll be there soon. Then I'm out, kiddos."

"Right…" Leia sighed, sinking into her seat. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm practical, sweetheart."

Luke wrung his hands in his lap silently for a few minutes while Leia chewed on her nails. He turned his face to stare at her, and she shrunk beneath the weight of his gaze. Nobody looked at people the way that Luke Organa looked at people. He looked, and he saw beneath the surface, and he did not judge. It was a wonder that such a singularly beautiful individual had survived such a cruel world— but then, he'd been sheltered a great deal of his life.

"Leia," he said finally. She sighed and spared him a glance. "I was wondering… were you actually trying to fight Darth Vader?"

Han stiffened, and he turned around to stare at her incredulously. "You did what now?"

"I was trying to kill him, actually," Leia said dully, "but I guess it doesn't matter now. Ben's gone. I couldn't save him."

"Leia, you couldn't have saved him," Luke said softly. "It was out of your hands."

She took a deep breath, and she considered Luke for a moment. His eyes were huge and blue and earnest. For a moment she hated him. She hated him for being right.

"Once," she said, "not so long ago, a former Sith Lord came to Tatooine. He was looking for Ben, because he felt like Ben had stolen something from them when they first fought. That had been… decades ago, when Ben was still a padawan. Our age, probably. Ben didn't like to talk about it, but that night, I had a vision. I thought Ben was going to die."

"But he didn't," Luke said softly.

Leia shook her head. "No."

"Of course not," Han scoffed. "You just had a bad dream, sunshine. Nothing more."

"When you wake up tomorrow with a broken arm, and you wonder how the hell that happened," Leia said sharply, "that was the Force. I just want you to know that."

"Do you really not believe in the Force?" Luke asked, looking honestly alarmed. "But you're… not to be rude, but aren't you kind of old, Han?"

"What the hell sorta question is that?" Han snapped while Chewie yowled a sort of laugh. Leia chuckled into her hand, hoping it hid a smirk. It did not.

"I just meant that you look old enough to have lived through the Clone Wars," Luke said simply. "Everyone knows the Jedi existed, especially your generation. Have you ever heard of Hera Syndulla?"

"Ugh…" Han grimaced. "Yeah. I know that broad. Why?"

"She was a child on Ryloth during the Separatist siege," Luke said. "She saw the Jedi— her father worked closely with them to free her home from the invaders."

"A lot of good that did them," Han said bitterly. "Didn't save her people from slavery and degradation though, did it?"

Luke leaned back, stiffening and closing his mouth tightly. "What the Empire did to Ryloth— to  _hundreds_  of systems— is inexcusable. The Rebellion exists for the purpose of dismantling the Empire and holding them accountable for their crimes! Like Ryloth! Like Kashyyyk!""

Chewie bowed his head, and he let out a low, sad moan. Han quickly patted the Wookie's arm gently, and he shook his head.

"It's not our fight, bud," he told Chewie softly. "I know you wanna help your home, but what can we do?"

"You can fight!" Luke gasped. "You're more than capable of it."

"I'm also capable of dying just fine without your help, your worship," Han spat at Luke.

"Then go die," Leia said fiercely. "We don't need your help."

Luke glanced at her, his expression displaying a whole lot of exasperation that she knew he might have hid if she had not been so blunt. "Leia…" he sighed.

"No, I'm serious." She leaned back in her seat and stared directly into Han's eyes. "Go die. I don't give a shit. Once we're through, we're through. You get your money, and you go."

"You bet," Han said brightly. "I'll be gone, and you can miss me forever, but it won't change a thing, darling."

"I'm literally telling you to die, and you think I'm gonna miss you?" Leia rolled her eyes. "Ha! You're so full of yourself."

"I know you're gonna miss me," Han said very seriously.

"You're gravely mistaken," Leia replied.

Han smirked ahead of him. "We'll see," he said. Then he began to flick up some switches, reaching over Chewie and hitting a button. He eased a lever back and raised his chin. "Okay, we're coming in on Yavin 4."

Suddenly everything was very green, and she blinked in shock as they came planetside. Everything was even  _greener_. She held her breath as Luke directed them toward an enormous structure, the kind of building that Jabba would have built. A palace of some sort. It had layers, tiered like cakes on display in stalls at Mos Espa's bazaar, folded deeply into the glistening green foliage of a thousand trees. Trees! She was dazed and dizzy and dazzled from all the colors streaming past the window.

Luke seemed to notice her awe, and he smiled at her warmly. He took her hand.

"Welcome to the Rebellion," he said gently.


	6. skies on fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> penultimate chapter guys!! i need to do a bunch of revisions for the final chapter because i wrote it when my computer was acting fucky. i don't know if i like it all that much.
> 
> i have some additional notes at the end just because i thought i'd give an explanation for some stuff.

Luke descended the ramp with his head held high and his eyes flickering carefully over the hangar. Familiar faces had stopped to gaze at him, orange jumpsuits clustered around immobile X-Wings. The droids came after him, and Threepio looked around.

"Oh," he said pleasantly, relief etched into his voice, "it is good to be back!"

Artoo beeped in agreement. Luke rested a hand on his dome and turned back to look at Leia as she started slowly down the ramp. Her two lightsabers bounced at her thighs, glinting in the midday sunlight.

All eyes were on him. He was used to attention, and it did not deter him, but he felt how immense this seemed to be. People were looking at him like he was a ghost.

"Luke!"

He turned and saw the warm brown eyes and tan complexion of a girl he had not seen in a few years. At first he did not recognize her— her hair was faintly pink, rose gold and steely gray near the roots. Her actual roots betrayed the dark chestnut hue of her natural hair color.

"Sabine Wren," he said softly as she approached. Her armor had changed hue too. The fresh coat of paint was more uniform than he was used to, with less splatters of every color imaginable and more deliberate strokes of fine purples and blues. Her hair was shorter than Leia's, dusting her ears in a great swoop. The undersides had been shaved close to her scalp. "I thought you were on Mandalore."

"I was just about to head out again," she said. Luke glanced behind her and saw Wedge Antilles and Tristan Wren leaning close together, their eyes lingering on Luke's face. "Hera's asked for me, and I don't want to keep her waiting. I can't believe you're alive!"

"Me either," he admitted. Wedge strode up to him, disbelief glinting in his dark eyes. "Hey, Wedge."

"Luke Organa," he said. He saluted, and then he snatched Luke up in a grand hug. "You're a miracle walking, you know that? Who walks away from Imperial capture  _twice_?"

"Three times, actually," Luke laughed, catching Wedge's embrace and leaning into him, "if you count Vader's interrogation when I was eleven."

"I think I remember Kanan saying something about that," Sabine said thoughtfully. She studied him with sharp eyes, and she shot him a meager smile. "We all thought the worst, you know."

Wedge let go of him in order to stare at him expectantly. Tristan stepped behind him, Mandalorian helmet under his arm, and he frowned at Luke.

"Hey, Luke," Han drawled from behind him. Luke glanced at Han expectantly. "You didn't tell me you were friends with bounty hunters."

"Bounty hunters?" Tristan hissed. Sabine rolled her eyes.

"We're not bounty hunters," she said calmly. "We're Clan Wren, House Viszla."

"Han Solo is a pirate," Luke said offhandedly, watching Sabine's eyebrow quirk upward. "I don't think he's ever seen a Mandalorian warrior who wasn't a bounty hunter before. Give him a minute to adjust."

"I am not a pirate," Han said defensively. "I am a  _smuggler_. Big difference."

"There is no difference at all," Leia said. She brushed past Han and offered out her hand to Sabine. "Leia Skywalker."

Sabine took her hand, though her eyes lingered on the lightsabers on Leia's belt. "Sabine Wren," she said softly. Her gaze flashed up to Leia's eyes, and excitement filled her sweet voice. "You're a Jedi?"

Leia stiffened. She took a deep breath and stepped back. "I…" She blinked ahead of her, her eyes glazing over momentarily before she shook her head. "I don't know. I guess so. I was trained."

"Sabine worked very closely with two Jedi for many years," Luke explained. Leia peered up at him curiously, and then looked at Sabine with wide eyes.

"Kanan and Ezra are gone," Sabine said, with the same finality of Hera.

"Ezra…" Leia gaped and leaned forward with unexpected vigor. "Ezra  _Bridger_? Wait, what happened to him?"

Sabine blinked, and she looked a bit skeptical as she glanced at Leia. "You knew Ezra?" she asked faintly.

"Yeah," Leia gasped. "He came to Tatooine two years ago! He was looking for my master, and ended up leading Maul to us."

"Maul?" Tristan blurted, glancing between his sister and Leia uncertainly. "Like,  _the_  Maul? The one who sparked the last Civil War?"

"That's the one," Sabine said dryly. "Ezra never told us he met another apprentice on Tatooine. Just that Maul was dead, and Obi-Wan Kenobi was willing to join us in a dire situation."

"I was sent to retrieve Obi-Wan Kenobi," Luke said very softly. Sabine's eyes flashed to his face, and an understanding seemed to draw across her.

"Oh," she said. Her eyes flickered briefly behind them, peering into the empty space behind Chewbacca. "I'm guessing… he didn't make it?"

Luke's eyes swiveled toward Leia worriedly, but to his surprise she kept her expression schooled as she nodded gravely.

"I've only been his apprentice for a few years," she said, "but if you need a Jedi…"

Sabine smirked, and she cocked her head at Leia thoughtfully. "Any Jedi is Jedi enough," she said. She winked at Leia and turned away, clapping her brother on the shoulder. "Come on. We should get going."

"You should sweep the ship," Luke told Wedge as a commander jogged up to them. "We were definitely tracked here."

"What about the plans?" Wedge asked, catching Luke's arm and looking genuinely very worried. His thick eyebrows pulled over his eyes, and he frowned deeply. "They went to your ship, didn't they?"

Luke nodded. He patted Artoo's head. "Willard," he said, facing the commander who had approached and cutting him off as he began to speak. "The stolen plans are inside this R2 unit. If there really is a fault, then our analysts better find it. And fast."

Willard gaped at him. He bowed his head respectively, and he looked down at Artoo. "I'll bring him right away," he said, turning sharply. He paused, and then glanced back at Luke. His eyes drooped sadly. "We feared the worst, you know. You and your father departed around the same time, so most of us assumed you had both returned to Alderaan."

Speaking of Alderaan made his throat tighten, so he merely gazed at Willard vacantly. He felt a small hand on his back, and he closed his eyes. Leia was very good at shielding, but somehow he felt her in the Force like a steady hum.

"We'll have our time to grieve," Luke said softly. " _After_  we destroy the Death Star. Get those plans cracked, Willard."

The commander nodded, and he whirled away, leading Artoo out of the hangar and leaving Luke to rub his eyes tiredly.

"It's okay to feel sad about it," Leia whispered to him.

He looked down at her in alarm. "I could say the same to you," he said.

"I cut my hair in a fit of rage, Luke," Leia replied flatly. "Don't talk to me about suppressing my feelings."

Sabine had returned, helmet under her arm, and she hooked her arm around him and pulled him into a tight hug. "We miss you on  _The Ghost_ ," she said, pressing her cheek against his and then knocking her fist against his arm playfully. "Come visit us."

"If we survive," Luke told her brightly, "I will literally move in. Then you can tell me what actually happened to Ezra and Kanan."

Sabine's face fell. She turned her face away, and she shrugged. "Look," she said. "They left and didn't come back. It happens. Look at Ahsoka."

"Ahsoka's fine," Luke said sharply. "I saved her myself."

"But she never came back," Sabine pointed out. She bit her lower lip, and she searched Luke's face wildly. "Please… just…" Her eyes flitted away sharply, and she shook her head so her pale pink hair fell into her eyes in various angles. "I'm not talking about this, okay? You've lost too many people today, and I—" Her voice broke, and she took a step back. Wedge caught her shoulder gently, and he wrapped his arm around her it. Sabine stared at the ground with wide eyes, her hand over her mouth, as if she had not expected herself to get so upset.

"You guys better check in," Wedge said softly. "I'll see you later, Luke?"

"Yes. Right." Luke inhaled deeply, and he straightened up. "Sabine… I'm sorry. For everything. May the Force be with you."

She looked up at him sharply, and for a moment her large brown eyes were burning with rage and pain before that fire broke with a hiss and left her gaze glistening dully. She nodded mutely, and she turned away.

They went separate ways, Luke walking briskly through the hangar while Wedge led Sabine back to her Gauntlet.

Leia jogged to keep up with him while Han and Chewie stayed behind. They did not speak as they departed. Luke wondered briefly if he would ever see them again, and felt a small pang in his heart when he realized this might be the end of a strange and rocky friendship.

"You knew Ezra Bridger?" she asked softly.

Luke nodded. He navigated through the tight halls of the temple expertly, and she struggled to keep up.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," she sighed. "I mean, the only person in the Rebellion I ever really knew was Ezra. Only other Jedi, too, I guess."

"He was..." Luke tried to find the words, but words failed him. He was overcome with the sudden loss that he had not allowed himself to feel before Scarif, during Scarif, after Scarif. What had happened to Ezra and Kanan? He imagined them facing Vader again, and he felt sick. "He was a good person. Loyal. Sweet."

 

Leia was quiet as they shuffled through the corridors, attracting more attention than Luke was comfortable with. Every person they passed pivoted to stare at him, their mouths falling open in shock. He felt like he was a specimen on display. A relic, or a stuffed animal in a museum.

 

He saw Leia tug at a leather strap around her neck that held a pale white bauble and frown. They kept walking steadily, her lightsabers bouncing at her hips, his chin high and his eyes clear of mist. There would be no crying. Not right now.

"Prince Luke!" A bright, disbelieving voice gasped, enveloping him in a bright hug. "You made it, my boy!"

"Hello, General Dodonna," Luke said delicately. He peered past the man at Mon Mothma, who stood resolute at the center of the Briefing room. They had gotten to the heart of the temple, and there was no natural light. Only blue and white glowing screens that made the room look oddly dim and even more archaic than it already was.

Dodonna pulled back to reveal a room full of prying eyes. They watched him, disbelief and scrutiny melding together into a hundred white-hot stares. Luke realized, bile behind his tongue, that staring Darth Vader in the face was less uncomfortable.

"Hello," he greeted the room weakly. "I'm alive."

"We can see that," Draven said dryly.

Leia had taken a step back. Her eyes flickered over the wide expanse of the room worriedly. Luke noticed her discomfort, and he set a hand on her shoulder. "You can go back to the ship, if you want," he whispered.

She glanced up at him, and she scowled. She marched forward and unhooked her lightsaber, slamming it onto the console before Mon. The whole room was silent, though a few panicked officers had torn out their blasters and aimed them at her.

"I'm here to fight," she declared with a voice that boomed across the whole room, allowing the hush that fell over the soldiers and the senators to truly dig into their hearts and lungs. "Whatever power I have— which might not be much, but for now might be enough— I will give it to you. Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

"Leia," Luke gasped, slightly exasperated. "Don't say  _that_."

She ignored him. Typical.

"I can fly, if you need a decent pilot," she said. "I can shoot blind, if you need a good shot. I can escape tight situations, if you need a getaway man. I just have one condition."

Draven glanced at her, and he scoffed, as though he had been expecting such a thing. After he broke the silence, a great deal of murmuring erupted from the senatorial,  _command_  side of things, while the soldiers merely nodded, stuffing their blasters away.

Mon held up her hand, and the murmuring stopped. She peered at Leia curiously, and she offered a small, knowing smile. Her eyes flitted from the lightsaber in her hand to her face.

"Yes?" Mon asked gently. "What is that condition?"

Leia inhaled very sharply, her chest rising and falling before them. Her gaze was hard as she stared into Mon's eyes.

"When the time comes," she said in a low, cold voice, "and Vader must be executed— nobody kills him but me."

It was difficult to hide his shock and dismay, but he managed to shove it down deep with the rest of his useless feelings. He couldn't keep himself from staring at her back and wondering why the Force had cursed him like this. Why Darth Vader? Why, of all terrible men, did it have to be a terrible man without any redeeming qualities? Why couldn't his father have been a thief, or a king of thieves? That he could forgive.

Mon blinked at her, and as the assembly once more erupted in murmurs, this time louder than before, she cut in sharply. "Why?" Her voice softened once the other voices ceased. "Why is that so important to you?"

Leia snatched her lightsaber and it hissed into life, whirring as she leveled it before her and caused the assembly to break into alarmed, confused shouts. There were words thrown around, but Luke didn't understand them.

Somehow, Leia had made his return from death seem like just another day.

He was grateful.

"My name is Leia Skywalker," she said, her voice slicing through the din and causing every voice to silence. "This was my father's lightsaber. My father, a Jedi, who was killed by Darth Vader. My master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, who was  _also_  a Jedi killed by Darth Vader. If Darth Vader didn't exist, then where would I be? Where would any of us be? Not here, crouching in some abandoned palace on a planet where the water in the air chokes you. I would still have a father, and a mother, and a master. I would have friends and peers— people like me, who can feel the Force! They would have a place in this world, if not for Darth Vader. And if I could not have that childhood, then I will make sure that no child like me will grow up feeling alone. So I will kill Darth Vader. For every Jedi before me, and every Jedi after me."

Luke stared at her back numbly, her words passing through him like he truly was a ghost. It would not have surprised him if her words had been met with applause. They deserved applause. She spoke eloquently, and with fervor— this was a speech that rallied people, swayed them to a cause.

But there was silence.

Dead silence.

Leia extinguished her lightsaber, and it was like a hundred breaths released at once.

Mon lowered her chin slightly, angling it toward her chest. "Skywalker," she said softly. "And… your father, he was…?"

"Anakin," Leia said. She hooked her lightsaber onto her belt and stared at Mon expectantly.

Mon studied her for a moment. She closed her eyes, her long white fingers stretching out against the ringed console before them. She nodded.

"If anyone ever manages to capture Vader," Mon said softly, "you will have leave to execute him. Though don't expect anyone to wait, if they can kill him."

"Nobody without the Force can kill Darth Vader," Leia said bitterly. "If you send ordinary men to even try it, they'll fail. They'll die."

"Leia's right," Luke said. He stepped up beside her, and she spared him a glance before focusing on Mon again. "Vader's too powerful. And it's more than likely he's headed here right now with the Death Star. If we are going to survive the night, we need all of our fighters in the air  _now_ , before the station gets here."

"The plans haven't been analyzed yet," Dodonna said faintly.

"They'll be analyzed soon, though," Luke said. "We will have our weak point. All we need is one good pilot who can exploit it."

Leia whirled to face him. Her eyes were burning brightly beneath her low brow, and she clenched her fists at her side. "I want to be a pilot," she said.

Dodonna glanced at her, and he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Where are you from, young lady?"

"Tatooine."

Dodonna frowned. "Have you ever flown a Starfighter before?"

She stiffened. She shook her head, her cropped hair flying about wildly. "No," she said, "but I don't see how that matters."

"We don't want you to die for nothing," Dodonna said gently.

"I'm a great pilot," Leia said firmly. "I told you already, I can do whatever you need done. Just give me the chance."

"I allow it," Mon Mothma said.

There were a few objections. The first and loudest came from Draven, who stepped up and argued furiously that Leia had no experience, and therefore—

"General Draven," Mon said sharply. "I know your memory is short, but bear with me. Do you remember the Clone Wars?"

Draven blinked, and he spared a glance at Leia before nodding slowly. "Of course," he said.

"Then you remember The Hero With No Fear."

At this point, Draven actually scoffed. "Really?" He folded his arms across his chest. "We're going to go there?"

"Anakin Skywalker was, on record, one of the best pilots in Republic history," Mon said calmly. "Now, I don't know much of the Force, but if his daughter is here with us now claiming that she can fly, we'd best take her word for it."

Draven's jaw set, and he seemed ready to fight some more, but a young Twi'lek came running up to Dodonna. He looked just barely pubescent, his skin a pale blue bordering on a milky white. His stubby lekku swung as he stopped, whispering quickly into Dodonna's ear.

He stepped back while Dodonna straightened up. He nodded to Mon a bit too hastily, and excused himself. The boy led him from the War Room.

"Looks like they've analyzed the plans," Luke muttered. Beside him, Leia exhaled softly.

"Do you think they found something?" she asked.

Luke nodded. "I know they have," he said.

She stood thoughtfully before him before puffing a breath of air into the loose strands of hair around her temples. Her heels rocked back, and she closed her eyes.

"Prince Luke," Mon said very gently. Once more all eyes were on him, as though the hungry mob had remembered his existence as a human ghost. "I know I shouldn't pry, but I must ask… Alderaan…"

Luke had prepared himself mentally for this since the moment they'd jumped into hyperspace.

"I will tell you everything that happened as briefly as possible," he said mechanically, staring at the glint of Mon's chains and broaches. "I was boarded and captured by Darth Vader. I had taken advantage of the deaths of my crew, including Captain Raymus Antilles, who was nearly an uncle to me, and hidden away to record a message to Obi-Wan Kenobi, who my father sent me to retrieve. I put the plans in my astromech and sent him on a mission to Tatooine. Once found, I was brought to Vader, who ordered me to be interrogated on the Death Star."

"And… were you?" Draven asked, his eyes narrowed.

Luke turned his eyes sharply to Draven. This, he knew, had been Cassian's superior. Draven was shifty, because he dealt in spies, and Luke had never spoke more than a few words to him directly.

"Vader tortured me," Luke said. "I never said anything."

"You never gave up our location?"

Luke sighed. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "No," he said bitterly. "It wouldn't have mattered either way. Even if I had told the truth, when Tarkin asked me, he was going to blow up Alderaan anyway. He had no interest in letting my world live."

They were all silent then. Blessedly silent. Luke looked back at Mon, staring into her warm eyes and pleading mutely for her to let him go.

He nearly cried in relief when she nodded.

"Thank you, Prince Luke," she said. She bowed her head at him respectfully, and it hurt. "You may go."

He took a deep breath, and he gave her a curt nod. Then he turned on his heel and exited the room. Leia trailed right behind him, likely throwing one last glare around the room.

Once they were out of earshot and in the safety of the tunnels of the temple, Leia jumped beside him and exploded with a wild hand gesture.

"Are they  _serious_?" she snapped, waving wildly ahead of them. "Why did they grill you like that? Luke, you had nothing to prove, you didn't do anything! Why'd you say all that stuff?"

Luke sighed. She was very new and very raw and had no experience with diplomacy. But Luke was patient. He smiled down at her.

"It's just necessary, Leia," he said softly. "I'll have to file a report later, if we live long enough. It's just how things are kept on record. Clean and orderly. I was imprisoned, so I should be processed and sent to a physician, and then an examiner to determine how much, if anything, I let slip, but we're running on crunch time. So none of that for me, thankfully."

"You probably should go to a doctor," Leia said fiercely. "You were tortured? You never said anything!"

"It didn't matter."

"Bullshit!"

Luke eyed her tiredly, and he shook his head. "It's fine," he said. "I'll go after. They'll just release me anyway, because there's nothing wrong."

"Go to a head doctor, then!"

"A—?" Luke blinked rapidly, and he couldn't help but smile. "Oh. You mean a therapist?"

"What _ever_!" Leia grabbed his arm and jerked him to a stop. "Luke, I saw Vader once. I looked at his mask, and I thought I was going to die. And I had a lightsaber! I can't even imagine what you must have felt."

"I was…" Luke tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling dully. "Sad."

She examined his face for a moment in disbelief. "Just sad?" she asked.

Luke saw his father's face for a moment. Bail Organa, and then Darth Vader.

He felt sick.

"Yes," he murmured. And then he started forward. Leia kept up beside him this time, never falling short.

As they walked, he greeted old friends briefly. They touched his head, unable to believe he was real. He apologized for keeping them waiting, and they laughed in disbelief. He was pulled into multiple hugs before he returned to the hangar.

"Hello, Han," Luke said as they approached the  _Millennium Falcon._ Han was doing some maintenance, and he hunched over the hull and slid his goggles up over his dirty face to smirk down at them.

"How'd the welcome party go?" he asked dryly.

"Bad." Luke looked around tiredly, and noticed that all the pilots had begun to cluster in the center of the hangar. "What's the news here?"

"Your plans are all they've been talking about." Han slid down, catching the bar of the ramp before landing easily on his feet. Chewie howled from somewhere beyond the ship. "Right?" Han chuckled at whatever Chewie had said. "They're all running around like they've got their heads cut off. What gives?"

"Your ship was tracked, genius," Leia said flatly. Luke glanced at her, but he decided to remain quiet as Han scowled down at her.

"Well  _yeah_ ," he said. "They found the tracker as soon as we got here and they destroyed it! That doesn't me—"

"They're the Empire, Han," Luke told the man delicately. "They'll be here."

Han scratched his head, grease sliding against the crease of his forehead. He tugged off his goggles and tossed them away. Before he could speak again, Wedge jogged up to Luke, swatting his arm and jerking his chin toward the pilots. General Dodonna had appeared, and was directing them through the hangar.

"Oh," Luke said. He tugged on Leia's sleeve, and she followed him forward alongside Wedge. "You know this is bad, don't you, Wedge?"

"It's always bad," Wedge said simply.

Luke didn't disagree with that. He looked into his friend's face, and he smiled. "Did Sabine leave, at least?"

Wedge sighed, looking a bit relieved as he nodded. "I'm glad she won't be part of this," he said. "We've got cells, smaller cells, but still cells, all over the place, so if… we don't make it…"

"Yeah."

They were both unbearably silent for a few moments.

"You were getting pretty friendly with Tristan, though." Luke nudged Wedge's rib with a smirk, watching his friend shrink a bit and shove him away. "A Count of Mandalore. Aiming pretty high, aren't you?"

"Shut up, Luke," Wedge muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and flushing. "I don't think Tristan Wren even likes guys."

"I'm never wrong about these things."

"Oh yeah?" Wedge shot him a sly smile, and he shoved him playfully. "Then why didn't you ever go for your Jedi friend?"

Luke's mouth fell open. They didn't talk about this, as a rule, because Luke had always explained that he did not want anyone in his life to distract him from his duties. He noted Leia's stare, and he composed himself quickly.

"Jedi don't do dating," he said softly. "And neither do I. Drop it, Wedge."

"Jedi do  _so_  do dating," Wedge muttered. "I was with Phoenix Squadron for almost two years, bud. I saw General Syndulla and Knight Jarrus together."

"Yes, well…" Luke shook his head. "Not the point. Leave it alone, okay?"

Wedge had been close with  _The Ghost_ — he'd been recruited by them, even. So it was likely he knew at least a little of what had happened to Ezra and Kanan, and Luke was annoyed he was pushing it.

"Okay…" Wedge looked over his head and smiled at Leia warmly. "Wedge Antilles, by the way. Are you two gonna fly with us?"

Luke was momentarily puzzled by his use of the word "two," because he would throw on a flight suit in a second if given the clearance, before he turned around and noticed that Han had trailed after them. He looked a bit amused.

"No way," Han said. "I'm just seeing what all this is about before I leave."

Leia twisted to glare at him. Then she smiled brightly up at Wedge, and she grasped his hand over Luke's shoulder. "Leia Skywalker," she said smoothly. "I'll be flying with you."

Wedge smiled, and he nodded. "Glad to have you," he said. "We've got a spot open in Red Group, if you're interested."

"Of course," she said. Her smile took up half her face, and she looked ahead at the orange jumpsuits that shuffled ahead of them. "Honestly, being a pilot for the Rebellion has been my dream for years."

Wedge looked briefly surprised, but then he nodded. "It's definitely a fulfilling job," he admitted. "If not a risky one. You know the risks, right?"

"I'm not afraid to die," Leia declared. Then she stalked forward, leaving them all to watch her slim blue shoulders and her unruly dark hair.

"She's certainly something," Han remarked. Luke stared after her, nodding mutely. Han smirked, and he leaned between Wedge and Luke with eyebrows raised. "So  _neither_  of you are into her?"

Wedge spared Han a dull, unimpressed glance. He then smirked and shifted his gaze to Luke expectantly. "I know my tastes," he said, eyebrows raised. "Luke here is an enigma, though. Says he doesn't like anyone, then he has a crush on Phoenix Squadron's Jedi—"

"I  _never_  said I liked Ezra," Luke said quietly.

"Dude," Wedge whispered, "who wasn't into Ezra Bridger?"

"Sabine."

"Sabine likes girls."

"Now  _that,_ " Han said dryly, "I thought was obvious."

"Don't judge people by their appearance," Luke told Han sharply. "You don't know her."

"Sabine has a girlfriend, Luke," Wedge pointed out. "That bounty hunter? Her childhood friend?"

Luke sighed and smoothed his hair from his forehead. "I'm not interested in anyone right now," he hissed, " _okay_? In case you haven't noticed, we all might be dead in an hour! Why does it matter who anyone likes?"

"Just trying to keep things lighthearted," Han said lightly, "yeesh."

In his life, Luke had never come close to what he supposed normal people would call romantic interactions. What had happened with Ezra had been… sad, on his part, because he'd resisted any attempt to test their chemistry. Luke had felt a very deep connection with Ezra, and he did not know if it was because of the Force or because of something else. It hardly mattered now.

Somehow, Leia felt a bit similar to Ezra in a way, but also very different. Luke didn't know what it meant.

"And y'know," Han said, his eyes traveling to Luke's face curiously, "I totally get it, your highness. Guys are  _way_  less of a hassle. Take a guy like me, for instance. Completely low maintenance."

Luke froze, briefly panicked by a revelation. _Is he trying to flirt with me?_  He had not realized, this entire time, that Han had gotten entirely too close. Wedge looked at Luke with large eyes, his smile encouraging.  _Do these guys ever listen?_  He thought wildly.  _I said we don't have time for this!_

"You're too old for me," Luke blurted. He brushed past Wedge and Han and hurried forward, though keeping his pace at a steady walk.

They made it to the Briefing room, and Luke crossed it breezily, parting from the pilots and collecting himself hastily beside the rest of the senators and diplomats. He spotted Leia crouching beside Wedge, her scratchy woolen smock and faded blue tunic standing out among all the blinding orange jumpsuits.

Han stood in the back. He met Luke's eye, and he smirked.

 _Shit,_  Luke thought numbly.  _I am never going to be rid of this, now that he knows I_ _ **might**_ _be interested in men._

He pulled his hood up over his ears. It was a bit dirty, and wrinkled, but it was a comfort nonetheless.

Dodonna stepped up as the screen before them lit up, displaying the bare-boned schematics of the Death Star. Luke exhaled shakily. He felt around in the Force for comfort, but found none.

"Hello," Dodonna greeted them mildly. "Thank you all for coming. I understand tensions are high as the Death Star has entered the system, but understand that we have a chance."

Luke had not known that the Death Star had entered the system. He bowed his head and closed his eyes.

"The battle station is heavily shielded and carries a firepower greater than half the star fleet," Dodonna continued, stepping up to the screen as it displayed the round latitudes and longitudes of the station. "It's defenses are designed around a direct large-scale assault. A small one-man fighter should be able to penetrate the outer defense."

A man stood up, his eyes tired and his expression wary. Gold Leader, Luke believed.

"Pardon me for asking, sir," he said very cautiously, "but what good are snub fighters against  _that_?"

Dodonna nodded at the question, which was fair enough on any level. "Well, the Empire doesn't consider a small one-man fighter to be any threat, or they'd have a tighter defense. An analysis of the plans provided by Prince Luke has demonstrated a weakness in the battle station."

Luke pushed his hood back and he stepped forward so all of the pilots could see him clearly. Some of them were his friends. They looked at him, sympathy in their eyes. He imagined he must look terrible, and that was fine, because he felt terrible.

Dodonna then explained, gesturing to the slowly moving schematics of the Death Star, how one fighter could maneuver through a trench and take an impossible shot that could disrupt the core.

The disbelief was actually palpable. Luke listened to the steady murmurings that skittered through the crowd of pilots. Dodonna continued, undeterred.

"Only a precise hit will set up a chain reaction. The shaft is ray-shielded, so you'll have to use proton torpedoes."

Wedge shook his head and shrunk a bit in his seat. Leia glanced at him, and she set a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I know this seems impossible," Luke said steadily, loosening his voice and looking directly into any eye he could catch. "I know you're scared. But this fault was specifically manufactured for us to exploit. You were all at the Battle of Scarif, so you will remember how hard we fought, in the air and on the ground, to see these plans delivered. We cannot let them die for nothing."

For a moment, they were all somberly silent. They bowed their heads respectfully for the fallen, before a pilot shouted, "For Scarif!"

Another pilot lifted their head and jumped to their feet. "For Alderaan!"

Luke was astonished by the sudden and vigorous energy that sparked through the pilots as they all jumped to their feet with a cry. Even Leia—  _especially_  Leia— seemed swept up in the moment, her eyes alight and dangerously set forward.

War was brutal. They all knew it. Rallying cries only did so much— but they did help. Even the slightest hint of enthusiasm could go a long way. It kept their fear at bay for now.

Dodonna stared at them, his expression softening as the all saluted at once.

"Man your ships," he said softly. "And may the Force be with you!"

* * *

The flight suit was a bit heavy, and it weighed against her chest as she locked Artoo into her X-Wing. She'd spent more than a few minutes admiring it while Wedge explained to her all the controls. Luke had disappeared somewhere, leaving her feeling isolated and unsure.

"I know this is your first time out," Wedge said to her, smiling gently, "so just know if you gotta pull out, we understand. Someone will cover for you."

Leia patted him on the shoulder, and smiled at him. "Wedge," she said, "I'm going to blow up the Death Star."

He laughed at her, and ruffled her hair. "Well, that's the plan, isn't it?"

Leia's laughter was small and short as she smoothed down the spiky edges of her cropped hair.  _He doesn't get it_ , she thought. She supposed this was just how the Force worked. No one was going to understand, even if they saw it.

So she finished the last minute adjustments to her navicomputer, and she descended from her X-Wing. She had left her lightsabers with Luke after changing, feeling it was useless to bring them into space with her. She felt a bit naked without them.

A long, familiar face appeared between one side of her fighter's wings. She looked at him for a moment as he watched her expectantly, and she turned away.

"Hey," Han sighed, ducking under the wings and half-jogging to meet her. He was careful not to touch her as she whirled around to face him. "Listen, I know we disagree on some stuff—"

"Why aren't you staying?" she snapped.

He blinked, and he licked his lips anxiously. "O…kay…" he said, staring dully into a space beyond her head. "Let's just jump right into it, then. You know why I can't stay."

"No," Leia said, "I  _don't_. Do you expect me to be okay with the fact you're just abandoning us?"

"Why do you even care?" Han snapped.

"I don't!"

"It sure doesn't sound like it!"

Rage burned a hole in her chest, which already felt so hollow she could barely stand it. She let out a small, strangled shout of frustration, and she pushed past him angrily. "I don't have time for this!"

"Well,  _make_  time!" He snatched her by the arm and looked down at her with wide eyes. "We might not be friends, but we nearly died together enough times that we're definitely not strangers. I don't understand why this is upsetting you so much!"

"Are you actually as dumb as you look?" Leia asked him flatly. "Wow. I really overestimated you."

"Leia!"

Shocked by the fact that he had actually addressed her by name, and angry that he thought that she cared enough about him that his departure truly affected her, she stepped back.

" _Because_  we almost died together so many times," she said sharply. "Because you saw what happened to Alderaan. You know what this thing is capable of, but you'd rather just run away!"

"I've got a Hutt to pay, honey," Han said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shrugging. "It's nothing personal."

"We could really use a pilot like you right now," Leia said, looking up at him beseechingly. "I'm going to make the shot, but I can't say how many innocent people will get hurt or die while I'm doing it. If you covered us in the  _Falcon_ , I wouldn't need to worry as much about the other pilots!"

"How the hell are you gonna make that shot?" Han eyed her uncertainly. "Listen, that shot's impossible. Nobody can make it."

"Stick around," Leia told him with a wry smirk. "I'll show you the impossible."

For a moment he hesitated. His brow furrowed, and then he took a step back and waggled his finger at her. "Uh-uh," he said, shaking his head furiously. "No way, you're not tricking me. I like living, sister!"

"You wouldn't die," Leia sighed. "If you were gonna die in that trash-heap of a ship, you would have by now. You're a good pilot."

"Aww…" Han smiled and leaned forward almost condescendingly. "She does care!"

Leia rolled her eyes, and she snatched her helmet from a crate beside her X-Wing. "Just please," she said in a small, pleading voice, " _please_  prove me wrong. Don't be a selfish coward for once."

"Look, I'd love to stay," Han said, backing away slowly, "but this debt ain't gonna pay itself."

She watched him with a dull, passionless gaze. He seemed to pause and consider her for a moment as she continued to stare at him emptily. Even disappointment seemed to be too much effort to spare on this man.

"I don't know why Jabba's going through all this trouble," she said. "You're worthless."

She had not meant to say it out loud. It embarrassed her that she had such little self-control. Out of intense shame and rage, she turned away and walked off.

It was difficult to process, but Leia knew that she would regret not saying a proper goodbye to Han. She knew it, and she ignored it. She was the sort of masochist that would rather stew in their own misery than admit they were wrong.

"Leia!" Han shouted to her. She kept walking. " _Leia_!"

Fed up and irritated by the sound of his voice, she whirled around to glare at him. He hung back near her fighter, and he smirked at her.

"May the Force be with you," he called to her. His voice was soft, almost pleasant. She blinked at him uncertainly before nodding slowly and turning away.

Luke observed her as she approached, his eyebrow quirked in amusement. He was standing beside General Dodonna, looking entirely too pleased.

"Couldn't convince him, huh?" he said, smiling at her knowingly.

"Yeah, well…" Leia sniffed. "Screw him, right? We don't need him."

"I almost thought he'd come around," Luke admitted. He shrugged. "I guess I was wrong."

"Well, you did call him a coward," Leia said, offering a small laugh. Luke laughed too, albeit nervously.

"Yeah… I did, didn't I?"

Leia peered at him curiously. His bright, earnest blue eyes had dimmed considerably since she had last seen him. He was nervous and scared, and she knew it. It surprised her, because he wasn't even flying.

"We'll get through this, Luke," she said gently. "You know that, right?"

Luke nodded. He didn't look so sure, but he kept nodding anyway. Then he cut his gaze away, and he stared longingly at a nearby X-Wing.

"I wish I could go with you," he whispered.

Leia gazed at him, her mouth falling open mutely. She imagined Luke in an X-Wing, delicate and soft spoken while the engine caught fire and the whole ship collapsed on itself, oozing black smoke and spitting fire in the sky.

"Why the hell would you want that?" she asked sharply. "You're needed down here. You can't."

He glanced at her curiously, and he smiled. "Yes, I know," he said. "Otherwise I'd be in a suit like you, ready to destroy the Death Star. If you weren't here, I would be."

"What do you mean?"

Luke stared at her blankly, and then his eyes filled with a sudden light, like he had just realized something very important. He looked down at his feet, puzzled, and he shook his head.

"It's…" He tilted his head, and he looked back up at her with a small smile. "It's not important. I'll tell you later."

She watched him curiously, and then she nodded. "Okay," she said. She took his hands and squeezed them tightly. "Wish me luck?"

Luke gazed at her, bare sympathy glittering in his wide blue eyes. He yanked her toward him, and enveloped her in a tight hug.

"May the Force be with you," he murmured in her ear.

Leia stared vacantly at the wall behind Luke's head, stunned by this display of affection and heartened by how genuine he was. She had never known anyone so genuine in her whole life, and it excited and scared her.

She was never good at making friends easily. Biggs was really the only one who stuck with her, and even he had left at some point.

Thinking about Biggs sent a pang through her heart as dunes of sand flew behind her eyes, and the smooth white domes of home settled in her brain. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru still needed new identities and a safe passage off Tatooine. She should have enlisted Han to grab them while he was off paying his debts.

"The Force is always with me," she said, drawing back from Luke and smiling at him warmly. "That's what it means to be a Jedi."

"Tell that to all the ones who died."

Leia let go of Luke and whirled around. There was a pilot clothed identically to her, helmet under his arm and cocky smirk on his lips. His dark hair had fallen into his forehead, and he offered out his arms awkwardly.

"Biggs!" Leia cried, swooping from the arms of one friend to another, throwing her arms around Biggs's middle and laughing as he picked her up and swooped her around. "Biggs, you're here? You made it? You're a  _pilot_ , look at you!"

Biggs laughed along with her, letting her toes scrape the floor and rocking her gently from side to side as they smiled excitedly. She had not even thought to ask around for Biggs Darklighter, things had been so hectic the past few days.

"What do you mean  _I'm_  here?" He grabbed her face and peered into it curiously. "Something's different. You cut your hair again?"

"Just this morning."

"Always liked this look," he said, cupping his chin and admiring her head from the side. "Makes you look even more like a ragamuffin."

"Shut  _up_ , Biggs," she gasped, laughter pooling into her voice as she shoved him playfully. "I can't believe you're a pilot too!"

"No, that's my line!" Biggs knocked her on the side of the head gently, and he caught her in a headlock. "My little Skygal is all grown up! Left home, didn't even  _tell_  me she was coming!"

"It wasn't really planned, Biggs," she said softly, easily maneuvering out of his arms and looking down at her feet.

Biggs stared at her with wide eyes. "What?" he asked, leaning forward and touching her shoulder. "Leia, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

She shook her head. The overhead intercom was all but shouting at them to get into their fighters. "Ben's dead," she said glumly.

"What?" Biggs looked a little dazed. "When? I feel like he's always been old, but honestly I thought he'd outlive us all."

"Vader beheaded him," Leia said very quietly. "Right in front of me."

Biggs stared at her for a moment, and his mouth fell open in shock. The dread of the encounter swooped over her very suddenly, as though she had not processed how horrific it had been until this moment. Her mouth was dry, and bile oozed its way onto her tongue.

"Leia…" Biggs's dark eyes lowered, and he shook his head. "I… I'm so…"

"You don't have to say anything," she said. Her voice was small and hoarse. "You being here is enough. I'm glad we get to fight together, Biggs."

He blinked rapidly, and nodded very slowly. "It'll be just like old times," he joked softly. "Racing beat up speeders in Beggar's Canyon."

"Yep," she said dryly. "If we want to get real nostalgic, I think I could manage mauling up Vader's face."

"Oh, Leia…" Biggs winced. "Let's… not talk about Cam Veruna."

"I'm just saying," she said as they stalked off toward their respective ships. "If I have the chance, I'm taking it."

Biggs laughed nervously, and he patted her on the back. "Steady, Skygal," he said. "Don't get too carried away out there."

"Biggs, I'm going to fly circles around you."

He nodded without argument. He knew it was true. Once they made it back to the X-Wings, he smiled down at her brightly.

"Okay, bud," he said, ruffling her hair gently. "This is where we gotta split."

"I'll tell you everything that happened with Ben when I get back," she said, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly. " _Everything_. Biggs, there are so many things I've kept from you over the years. I wasn't allowed to say anything, but there's no point keeping it a secret now."

Biggs looked momentarily concerned, but he smiled at her and nodded anyway. "Looking forward to it," he said.

They looked at each other, and for a moment Leia was truly worried for his safety. She knew she would be okay, because she had the Force, but Biggs was just a normal pilot. If it were up to her, no one else would be on this mission. She could make the shot fine on her own— no one else had to get hurt.

"Will you be okay?" she asked softly. Pilots were jogging past them, and the voice over head repeated over and over and over where they were supposed to be.

Biggs beamed at her. "You kidding?" He backed away slowly as he threw his hands into the air. "We made it, kid! I've never been better in my whole  _life_!"

Leia smiled at him, and it felt stiff and faulty on her lips. She bowed her head as she moved toward her X-Wing. If Ben were here, would anything be different? Would this small pocket of dread that had bubbled up into her chest be gone?

Things had always seemed so simple with Ben in her head. But now he was gone.

That was still so hard to accept.

Ben was  _gone_. He wasn't coming back.

Accepting that would be the only way forward.

Leia tugged on her helmet, smoothing her hair beneath it carefully. Artoo peered at her as she climbed up the ladder and adjusted herself into the cockpit. Her fingers were shaking. How strange was that? She'd never been afraid to fly before.

But it wasn't the flying that scared her.

"Hi, buddy," she said to Artoo. "You ready to kick some Imperial ass?"

Artoo warbled, and Leia was surprised to see a computer readout quickly translated his excited beeps.

 _Been ready for all your life_.

That made her laugh. "You're so weird," she said as she lowered the top of the X-Wing over her. It clicked into place, and she shifted in her seat. She clasped her seatbelts over her tightly, testing them three times before she took a deep breath.

 _I am ready,_  she thought.  _I have been trained for this. I can save people. I can save the world._

She forced herself to relax in her seat as the X-Wing powered up. She watched men, women, and children darting across the hangar. They were helping out where they could, removing power couplings from various fighters. The Twi'lek boy from earlier was at her wing, not even glancing up to see who was in the cockpit.

As she readied the engines, flicking switches up and turning on her comm, a familiar voice flitted through her brain.

 _Leia,_  Ben said softly, his voice unmistakable in the stew of anxiety that was her mind,  _the Force will be with you_.

She would have jerked out of her seat if not for the seatbelts pinning her in place. " _Ben_?" she gasped, lifting her hands to her head and squeezing her eyes shut. She reached out into the Force, but she the trace of his signature had vanished.

There was a brief moment where she wanted to tear off her helmet and leap from her X-Wing. Was Ben alive? But— no, no, he couldn't be. Leia was acutely aware of the feeling of his death, the suffocating moment when Vader's lightsaber had cut through her master's throat. No. He was as dead as the Jedi before him.

When she reached for their bond, tattered cords fell upon her mind, and they bit at her like venomous snakes. Tears sprung into her eyes, and she pushed her X-Wing forward viciously.

It rolled slowly forward at first before picking up speed at the opening of the hangar. Then the engines roared into life, and her wings shuddered as wind glided through them, and she felt a significant and familiar lurch as the small spacecraft shot into the air. Her heart left her, and she was alone.

The lush forests of Yavin 4 blurred beneath her. The heat, which she was no stranger to, was thick and wet here, and sweat already gathered readily beneath her smallclothes. Trees whipped at the force of several ships spitting from the ground into the atmosphere, sailing upward at an impossible speed. Their noses parted the flow of air and the roar of the wind pierced through the soundproofing on their helmets.

She had never flown out of a planet's atmosphere before. Not by herself. She knew the mechanics of it, the physics, and she was quick to adjust her speed and her settings on the dashboard as she accelerated. The blue sky around her became thin and white. Her goggles were tinted yellow, but everything was blinding around her, and her back was pinned to her seat. The pressure on her chest was enough that it recalled the fleeting memory of Vader. His presence felt like this.

Like the weight of gravity itself pinning her to a chair and trying to suck her back down to earth while she revved up and broke through the stratosphere. The mesosphere was dark, and her bones seemed to wiggle inside her skin as her speed accelerated further. It took but a second to burst through into the exosphere, and spin like a child's toy top as the inky black recesses of space greeted her. Distant stars winked, and the planet of Yavin glowed like a red giant, its smooth surface reflecting the light of its sun.

In her ear, her fellow pilots checked in. The Red Squadron.

Gravity loosened its hold on her. She felt free.

"Red Five," she said, easing the yoke forward and watching Yavin shoot past her window, "standing by."

The Death Star appeared before them, a massive steely structure that looked eerily out of place beside Yavin's soft red glow.

Red Leader's voice shuddered through their headsets. " _We're passing through their magnetic field. Hold tight_!"

Leia's fingers tightened on her yoke. She licked her lips, and she could taste the sour sweat pooling at her upper lip.

Somehow knowing what the Death Star was made it more terrifying on this approach. At least the first time they had seen it she had not known it was a planet destroyer. Now she just felt sick to her stomach. The closer they got, the more detailed the station became, and Leia felt like she was back in the  _Falcon_ , leaning into Ben's side.

" _Look at the size of that thing_!" a voice gasped through their headsets. Leia knew that she knew the owner of that voice. It wasn't Biggs, so… Wedge?

" _Cut the chatter, Red Two_ ," Red Leader barked. " _Accelerate attack speed. This is it, boys_!"

Leia frowned, but she did not object. Restraint was her best friend right now. They had to get through this fight.

As they came close, Leia was once again struck with how  _massive_  the Death Star was. It was too big to truly fathom, and she could not even imagine navigating it. How had they even found Luke in the short time that they had? She saw half the station shrouded in shadow, and she wondered if it wasn't the size of Yavin 4 by itself.

Leia knew that she had to get into the shaft. Gold Squad had already taken to the trench, while Red Leader broke off along with several of her own squadron to draw away blaster fire. She didn't know what she would do if she was ordered to follow them. Disobey?

Probably.

Blaster bolts darted along the top of the trench as she approached, easing her way down and lifting her fingers toward the switches above her head that would allow her to decelerate and pull up more rapidly than a mosquito diving into a speeder's windshield.

"This is Red Five," she said steadily, taking the controls of her fighter and tipping it forward. "I'm about to enter the trench."

There were guns everywhere, she realized, sliding into the narrow passage and jerking left and right to avoid the hail of Imperial gunners. She was relieved to see multiple guns erupt in smoke.

"Nice shot, Biggs," she said, glancing out her window and noting her friend behind her.

" _Pay attention, Leia_ ," Biggs said breathlessly. " _You went in without even taking out the guns_!"

She didn't say that she had the Force to avoid them. That would not help anyone at this point. She just kept going, the steeling walls of the trench seeming to get smaller by the second.

A gun exploded ahead of her, and the shrapnel tipped over, skidding along the side of the wall and caught an exposed exhaust port. Leia jerked back on her controls, toeing the nose of her fighter up as the flames came tumbling toward her.

" _Leia_!" Biggs cried in her ear, panic lacing his voice. " _Leia, pull—_!"

"I'm on it!" Leia swerved her X-Wing, flying sideways and grimacing as the bottom of her wings skimmed the sputtering ball of fire. She curved the fighter into a smooth arc, exiting the trench and rounding back.

" _That was too close_ ," Biggs breathed.

"I'm fine." She inhaled deeply, and joined back into formation. Blaster bolts skidded past her, a blur of laser fire under the stark light of Yavin and the artificial glitter of the Death Star.

" _Red Five_ ," Red Leader said sharply. " _Tell me when you're going in_."

Leia had hardly caught her breath since exiting the trench due to the giant flaming hunk of debris that had exploded in front of her. There was sweat burning her eyes, and her mouth was dry as she skimmed the surface of the trench.

"I'm about to," she said, licking her lips and dodging another onslaught of bolts that licked the edge of the cavern.

" _Careful! You're getting close to that deflection tower_."

"I'm already in," Leia said breathlessly, weaving through a barrage of bolts that rained down upon her. It took all of her natural flight ability plus her feeling out with the Force for her to ease herself through it. "Can someone kill that thing? I can't afford to lose a wing."

" _I'll cover you, Red Five_ ," Wedge said.

Leia eased back, closing her eyes and expanding her senses. Then she opened them, and she swerved to the side, rising up and then skimming low to the surface of the trench. Every move she made narrowly avoided another bolt.

She heard a massive explosion, and checked over her shoulder. Biggs and Wedge had destroyed the tower, and it was leaking smoke. She exhaled a little in relief. She had to do this. She had to keep going.

Another barrage of blaster fire came skittering before her, and Leia yanked up. She found herself sailing upward, straight up, swirling in the sky in total shock to avoid being blasted to hell.

"Shit!" She glanced behind her, and she saw a TIE fighter tailing her.

" _Red Five, you've got company_!" Wedge cried.

"Yeah, yeah," she said through gritted teeth, viciously switching gauges and yanking back on the yoke. She had no internal organs for a moment as her fighter looped around and opened fire on the TIE that sailed toward her. She had no thoughts, no feelings, and one truth. The Force. She shot with everything in her as the Imperial fighter shot back. She scraped by the bolts each time, unscathed.

The TIE's left dish shattered as one of her bolts hit home, and whatever deflectors they had died. Leia took the final shot and then swerved sharply, missing the coughing smoke and flaming ball of debris by seconds.

For a moment she allowed herself to breath. Biggs shouted in excitement over the intercom, and Red Leader rebuked him sharply.

"I need to get into that trench," she muttered.

" _Don't we all_?" an unfamiliar voice joked.

" _More enemy fighters incoming_ ," said another unfamiliar voice— this one she knew was coming from the base on Yavin 4.

"Great…" Leia glanced at her scopes, which she had not thought to use because they were not as reliable as the Force. She saw nothing, so she closed her eyes and felt around her. The base below her glowed in the Force, scorching her like a sun, and she felt like she was burning up for a moment before she felt the buzz of another TIE behind her like a pesky insect. She spun and tried to lose them in a field of antennas and protruding dishes on the bumpy surface of the Death Star.

She reared back and shot blindly, upside-down, at the TIE that pursued her.  _Go ahead_ , she thought haughtily. _Try it, buddy_.

She skimmed the top of the explosion as the TIE collapsed in on itself.

Turning herself upright, the blood rushing back to her face, she exhaled sharply. She was entirely too far away from the trench, and from the formation in general. She knew that a few people had died already. She'd heard it. She had to edge her way back to the trench slowly, checking her scanner and fuel tank.

" _Red Three_!" Red Leader cried. " _You picked one up— watch it_!"

Leia jerked her X-Wing to the side, scanning the surface of the Death Star for Biggs's fighter. It was likely in the trench, because she could not see it.

"Biggs," she said, her voice tight and her eyes darting wildly as she tried to catch her friend as he dodged the blasts of a stray TIE. "Biggs, get out of there."

" _I'm gonna pull up_ ," Biggs said as Leia cut her wings and dropped.

" _Red Five_!" Red Leader barked. " _You're falling_!"

Leia listened as the engines sputtered for a moment, her gut catching in her throat as the gravitational pull dragged her down. The Death Star's artificial gravity was not much, but it was enough to send her plummeting. She kicked the engines back into gear and extended her wings seconds before entering the trench, and she shot forward, aiming for the TIE behind Biggs and opened fire.

She slumped in relief as the TIE was engulfed in flames, smashing into the side of the canyon and collapsing into a pile of ash.

" _Don't do crazy stunts like that, Leia_ ," Biggs gasped. " _You almost died!_ "

" _I_ almost died?" Leia scoffed. "Shut up and keep your eyes front, Darklighter, before I kill you myself!"

Multiple voices came pouring into her ear at once, yelling at her to pull in. She wanted to bang her head against her console. This was so much easier when she only had Ben in her head. At least Ben was directing her about things she didn't already know!

She pulled in, spinning wildly as she exited the trench again to lose the TIE on her tail. All of this weaving in and out, she couldn't even get to the port to deliver the final blow! No one else was going to be able to do it, and they were running out of time!

Leia yelped as a bolt clipped one of her wings. She glided away, cutting back her speed and shooting wildly at the TIE that had hit her. It had just grazed her wing, so there was no real damage, but it had frightened her enough that she was not pulling stops.

"Will these things stop coming?" she muttered.

" _Focus, Red Five_!"

" _You good, Leia_?" Wedge asked.

She swallowed hard and eased down into the trench again. "Can we please finish this? I hate being careful."

Over their headsets, Leia jumped at the sound of Gold Leader. He was in the trench, and about to make the shot.

 _Can he do it?_  She bit her lip and gunned down another TIE, furiously battering it with bolts until it fell, smoking, into the face of the Death Star.

Leia knew their time was slipping away. If she looked behind her, she would be able to make out a crescent of Yavin 4. Luke was down there. The Rebellion was down there. Ben's legacy was down there.

She would not fail. No matter what, she would not fail.

" _The guns_ …" an unfamiliar voice, someone from the Gold Squad who spoke faintly. " _They stopped_!"

There was an odd moment of radio silence before the screaming started. Leia, who had entered the trench, and was trying to shoot down as many TIEs as possible while frequently fleeing tailing fighters, nearly lost control of her ship as static erupted after a painful cry. She twisted in her seat, searching the horizon wildly. The trench was too steep and curved to see what was happening ahead of them.

She knew, though. In her heart, she knew who it was.

It felt like exiting the atmosphere. Pressure on her chest, no air in her lungs.

There was shouting between the Gold Squad. "I can't maneuver—!" And, "Loosen up!" All came before startling screams that ended in deadening static. Leia exhaled shakily, sweat in her eyes, and she moved forward.

"Vader," she said.

Red Leader's voice hissed in her ear. Viciously. " _Red Five. You better not be joking_."

Leia shook her head. "No, I…" She swallowed hard. It felt like there was a fog gathering at the front of her brain. She could hardly focus. "I can't explain it, but he's here. I think he's in a TIE."

Red Leader took a deep, shaky breath. " _We can't dwell on it_ ," he said. " _Even if he is here. Red Five, focus_."

"Let me through to take the shot, then," Leia countered.

The silence that followed was excruciating. A member of Gold Squad cleared his throat. " _We lost Tiree_ ," he said, " _Dutch. They came from behi_ —"

Leia flinched as the sound of metal screeching. There was no scream just time, just a roaring blast and then absolute silence.

"Red Leader," Leia gasped. Her voice sounded thin and panicked. Imploring, even.

" _Red Five_ …" Red Leader sighed, and he spoke again gruffly. " _Red Group, this is Red Leader! Rendezvous at mark six-point-one_."

Leia wiped her face, but her gloved hand just stuck to the sweat on the creases of her nose. She clenched her fist and decided to ignore it.

" _This is Red Two, flying toward you,_ " Wedge's voice bled through the headset.

" _Red Three, standing by,_ " Biggs said.

Dodonna's voice came suddenly, like a sandstorm at noon, and he said, " _Red Leader, this is Base One. Keep half your group out of range for the next run_."

" _Copy, Base One_ ," said Red Leader. " _Red Five, take Red Two and Three. Hold up here and wait for my signal to start your run_."

Leia slumped in her seat, despite her nerves holding every muscle in her body hostage at blaster point. She was stiff and breathless, her eyes darting everywhere while the Force spread out like a blanket before her, wrapping her in a smothering mass of both pressure and comfort. She hung back, aligning herself with Biggs and Wedge. They were not quite level, so she couldn't see into their cockpits and grin at them.

If Ben were here, what would he say?

 _Release your fear into the Force, Leia,_  her mind, mimicking Ben's voice, said. It wasn't the same as in the hangar, when she'd actually heard Ben's voice.

But she did it anyway. She took a deep breath, and she pushed all her fear into the corners of her chest viciously. She had no time to dwell on it.

"Red Leader," Leia gasped, "let me go first. I can make that shot."

" _Negative, Red Five. Stay where you are. Wait for the signal_."

Leia hit her console in frustration, and she leaned forward. "Red Leader, I can avoid getting hit  _and_  make that shot! Just give me the chance."

" _Red Five, this is a direct order_!" Red Leader shouted. His team had already disappeared into the trench. " _Do not engage_!"

Leia bit back a scream of frustration. She had to be able to take orders if she wanted to be a part of this Rebellion, she  _knew_  that. But the idea of wasting more lives than those that had already been spent terrified her.

 _Release it into the Force_.

She exhaled deeply, and she got a handle on her controls. When she was called in, she would be ready.

The tension in the air as Red Leader and his squad geared up to shoot was agonizing. When one of the flanking X-Wings went up in smoke, Leia heard the man's screams, and she stared out into dead space, the gray glint of the Death Star glowing in her eyes.

" _It's away!_ " Red Leader cried, the sound of the bolt releasing echoing in their ears.

After a few moments, another member of her squad shouted, " _It's a hit!_ " Before Red Leader sighed.

" _Negative_ ," he said. " _It impacted off the side._ "

"Red Leader," Leia said, her voice tight. "Permission to—"

" _Go **on** , then, Red Five_!" Red Leader gasped. " _Make your run_!"

Leia revved her engines, flipping several switches wildly above her and streaking across the sky as she tipped the nose of her ship down into the trench once more.

" _Red Five_ ," Wedge said, sounding a little resistant. " _Are you sure_ —?"

"Wedge, cover me," Leia said sharply. "Biggs, gun down any TIE that gets too close. And, Red Leader? Get the hell out of here!"

" _I can't,_ " Red Leader said, defeat heavy in his quiet tone. The sound of a struggle skittered through their comms, and Leia pushed forward, biting down on her lip hard. " _I've lost my starboard engine, and a TIE— probably the one you pegged as Vader— has got me pinned._ "

"Shake him!" Leia cried. "Do something— go back to Base One!"

" _Negative, Red Five_ ," Red Leader said gravely. " _I'm leading him as far from you as possible_."

"What?" Leia's fingers were cramping against the steering mechanism. "Stop, that's not—!"

" _Make that shot, Red Five._ "

Leia bit back a startled scream when the explosion crackled on the comms, a roar of engines colliding with metal and a sudden and vicious silence. Her mouth fell open, and she heard her own shaky gasp. It didn't feel real. She had been born and raised on Tatooine, so death was no stranger, but this? She was coiled up in Death's embrace, waiting for it to decide if it would gather her up in its arms and take her away, or if it would drop her and leave her where she sat.

" _Leia_ ," Biggs warned, " _you're going too fast_."

"Worry about yourself, Biggs."

" _But, Leia_ —!" Biggs's voice was drowned out by his startled gasp. Wedge had pulled back, smoke streaming from one of his wings.

" _I'm hit_ ," he gasped. " _I can't stay with you— I'll only slow you down_."

"It's okay, Wedge," Leia told him, her voice surprisingly smooth and gentle. "Get away from here. Don't let anyone else shoot you."

" _Be careful_ ," Wedge replied as his X-Wing shot away, black smoke trailing behind it.

She heard Biggs take a shaky breath. And then he laughed.

"Of course it would be the two of us," he said softly.

"Biggs…" Leia watched the steel walls of the Death Star streak past, and she dodged the barrage of laser fire that seemed to fill the trench up to the brim. They were being tailed by multiple TIEs. "Don't get sentimental. Not right now."

" _Leia…"_ Biggs sounded off. She turned her head, briefly turning her attention away from the trench before her and tried to get a look at him. He was too far behind. The TIEs behind him were gaining speed, and the bolts were grazing the surface of the trench while Biggs narrowly dodged them. " _I can't hold them much longer. They're gaining on us too fast_."

"Then get out of here, Biggs!" She closed her eyes and shook her head.

" _We can't abandon the mission_ ," he said.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said fiercely. "I'm telling  _you_  to leave! If they're too much, then go! I'll deal with it."

There was a sharp, bitter silence which was cut short by Biggs inhaling sharply. " _If you think_ ," he hissed into her ear, " _for a **minute**  that I am leaving you out here, Leia, then you're even denser than I thought_."

She opened her eyes. She felt like they were getting close. The Force was bending around her. Her heart sunk in her chest.

"We're getting closer," she murmured.

" _Then hurry it up_!" Biggs cried impatiently. The sound of blaster fire only seemed to increase as she took a deep breath. The targeting system was distracting her. The lines and the steady beeping, it broke her concentration with the Force.

She turned it away.

" _Leia_ …" Biggs gasped. " _You… did you turn off your computer_?"

"Get out of here, Biggs," she said softly.

Biggs said nothing. She felt the danger in the Force, the target on her back. She was prepared to swerve upwards to miss it.

" _No_ —!" Biggs choked out, his X-Wing splitting the path between the blast and her ship. Leia buckled beneath the crash of his fighter, his scream dying in the deafening whine of metal bending under pressure and flame. Shock numbed her. She stared ahead, her mouth open and her eyes dry.

She was so tired of people sacrificing themselves for her.

" _Leia, why did you turn your targeting computer off_?" a voice from Base One demanded.

She watched the trench fall away beneath her. There was nothing here, nothing but her ship and the stars beneath her. A heartbeat was pulsing under the weight of the enormous exoskeleton that armored the station. It hummed and it bled and it cried out to her.

 _Pain we are, pain we cause,_ they moaned, not in words but in pangs of emotions that shot through her. She felt the loathing and self-hatred and brutal disgust that seemed to become the heart inside her.  _Monster, monster, monster! Below, and behind, and become you!_

Tears sprung into her eyes. The port was open for it, like a mouth. A beacon. It beckoned her.

 _You know what to do, Leia,_  Ben said, his voice dispersing the writhing guilt and grief within her and battering the self-loathing into submission.

The whole vision seemed to buckle as a shot grazed her window, nearly knocking her into the side of the trench and causing her to lurch forward unexpectedly. Her seatbelts bit into her ribs, and she gasped as her engines garbled around her. She could feel the TIEs behind her. She could feel Vader. He was closing in on another shot.

It was difficult to grasp how thoroughly she'd underestimated her own mortality. She was not scared to die, but she couldn't bear to die before she destroyed the Death Star. She knew everyone and everything depended on this shot.

Tears burned hotly in her eyes, obscuring her vision. She wanted to scream for Ben, but her voice had abandoned her. The strangled mass of stone-hard sunlight wailed, and she felt the burning of a whole world in her heart.

No more. No more pain.

Leia jerked in alarm as the TIE beside Vader's was shot down, skidding along the ridge of the canyon and exploding to her left. She gaped and leaned forward, scanning the stars for the X-Wing who had come back for her.

Disbelief crawled over her and then collapsed on top of her as the  _Millennium Falcon_  came soaring overhead, guns firing rapidly on the TIEs that tailed her. Laughter bubbled up in her chest, and the tears in her eyes fell hot upon her cheeks as she shook her head.

" _Red Five_!" Command yelled, frantic and nearly breathless. " _What's happening out there_?"

"Han came back," she said dazedly, closing her eyes. "I think he just saved my life."

" _Have you come up on the port_?" Dodonna asked, his voice tight and unsure.

She breathed in shakily, and she nodded. Realizing they couldn't see her, she said very softly, "I'm about to blow this monster."

Leia lifted her head, her eyes still closed. She took the shot, maneuvering it into the port with a nudge of the Force, and then she yanked her ship up and shot out of the trench like there was fire at her heels. The stars spread out before her, and tears sprung into her eyes as she circled back toward Yavin 4.

Because suddenly there  _was_  a fire at her heels.

An explosion, in fact.

The sound briefly deafened her as she shot through the sky, the blast aiding her acceleration and causing her to shoot farther into the atmosphere of Yavin 4.

 _I did it,_  she thought, her heartbeat pulsating throughout her whole body.

"I— I did it," she choked out faintly. "Ben… that was for you."

She sat and waited for an answer. None came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> explanations:  
> ezra and luke:  
> i have a soft spot for this ship, which if you've read "vision void" you could probably tell. i threw it in sort of offhandedly, because i wanted to completely avoid any misunderstandings between luke and leia. if luke is mourning a long time crush that he never got to pursue because of shyness, anxiety, and the assumption that they would have time later, then he won't be bothered with crushing on leia.  
> han and luke:  
> i have an issue with han with both of the twins bc of the age difference (this is a personal thing, i just find it weird), but i like the idea of him flirting with both of them with the assumption that neither would ever actually fall for it. since han/leia is canon, i won't try to avoid it. it's a cute pairing! i just hate the age difference. anyway, this was thrown in because i wanted to show bi man han and establish that he's a scoundrel who will get down with any type of old money. also he was alluding to past escapades with lando, ur welcome.  
> luke and flying:  
> some of you have expressed the desire that luke still be the one to take the shot at the death star. if he had pushed enough, he would have been allowed to go into the air, but i decided that it would be leia because it fit better with the story. exposure to vader, causing him to go searching for the pilot who destroyed the death star, and such.   
> kanan and ezra:  
> i keep alluding to kanan and ezra's fates, but not elaborating on what happened to them. i'm keeping it ambiguous because i hae no idea what season 4 of rebels has in store. i just find it doubtful that ezra or kanan will be in commission during this time period. i don't want to say they're dead, though, because who am i to say they're dead?


	7. an old relic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the final chapter of this fic. can you believe it?? i'm amazed. i also managed to finish this as my old laptop was in the process of dying, which is incredible in itself i think.
> 
> so the next story will be out soon, and will take up a story from the comics (2015, obviously). i'm sure you can guess which one, especially if i tell you that i am not very far in to them. i might make it two chapters to deal with the aftermath, but i'm almost done with one part regardless. i probably would have been done with it by now, but i've been working a lot and been busy with other stuff. anyway, expect a new installment soon!
> 
> thank you so much for reading.

The stunning moment of silence before the screams of joy and relief and desperate triumph came was one that he would not soon forget. He gripped the console, Mon at his back, and a slow and delirious smile stretched onto his mouth. He stood stiffly as the room exploded, feeling like a landmine that had detonated too late.

Then he wiped his tears, and he began to laugh. He jumped back and flung his arms around Mon, who clutched him tightly, her soft red her tickling his cheeks as he laughed into her shoulder.

They had done it— they had  _truly_  done it!

Shouts of passionate, triumphant delight roared around them as they all collapsed into each other's arms in relief and adrenaline-rushed fervor. They punched they air and knocked each other about, relief spreading out around them like an unfamiliar breeze.

Luke abandoned the War Room and rushed into a corridor, Leia's lightsabers bouncing on his belt. He had lost count of how many times Death had let him slip through its fingers, and he didn't know if he was delighted or dismayed. At the very least he knew he was glad that the Rebellion had survived, and the thing that had destroyed his planet was gone.

This victory felt like everything had fallen right into place. He felt truly alive for the first time in weeks— maybe months. He had been tacked to a wall by Imperial scrutiny, shrunk beneath a magnifying glass by the lashing of senatorial tongues, and he did not even want to think about the Emperor right now. Luke was aware of his own shortcomings. He was a failed politician and a shoddy anarchist.

But he had won.

For the first time, he tasted victory. It was like a forbidden fruit, and it stung his tongue.

But he wanted more.

Luke sprung into the dockingbay and watched a sea of people part for him as he flung himself into Leia's arms. She had just jumped down from her X-Wing, spotted him, and flung her helmet aside in a bright, happy daze in order to catch him.

"You did it!" His cheek pressed up against her choppy hair, and he squeezed her tight. "You actually did it!"

"Of course I did!" Leia pulled back, and she laughed exuberantly. "I said I would, didn't I? I don't lie, Luke."

He opened his mouth to respond, but a familiar feral roar sparked up behind them. Luke turned and grinned madly at the stoic Wookie and the human pilot that jogged up to meet them, his arms open and his eyes wide and disbelieving.

"Han!" he and Leia cried in unison. They bolted forward and each caught Han in one arm, forcing him to buckle back and laugh. His laughter seemed to overcome him, and he clutched them both to his chest while he shook his head.

"I can't believe it," he uttered, leaning heavily against them as they sauntered off, arm and arm. "Little Wamp Rat here did it. You should have  _seen_  Vader, kid, he was definitely pissed!"

"I hope he's dead," Leia spat. She leaned heavily against Han, her eyes set forward with a vicious glint to them. Luke closed his eyes, and his heart, or what was left of it after the meager relief of the Death Star's destruction, ached terribly.

He took a deep breath, and he bowed his head. "He's not," he murmured.

Leia tilted her head at him, while Han glanced at him curiously. "Huh?" Han asked, ruffling his hair. "What's up, bud?"

"Vader," Luke said. "He's not dead."

Han blinked, and he shrugged his shoulders faintly. "Hey," he said, "one problem at a time, okay? Can't we just get fucked up and worry about that later?"

"Yes," Leia said immediately. There was not a hint of hesitation. Luke smirked at her wryly, and he twisted to face the mobilizing crowd of surviving pilots and rebel insurgents.

"Drinks are on me tonight!" he yelled, his voice echoing briefly about the temple's hangar before another swell of excitement swept up every sentient available.

Luke decidedly got very, very drunk. There was a point in the night where he and Leia lined up shots of Mind Eraser on a crate of ammunition. Han was sitting on a crate nearby, sipping Corellian rum out of the bottle, his grip slack on the neck of the glass container.

"First time gettin' drunk?" Leia asked brightly as their bottle of Mind Eraser was commandeered by Wedge and some other rebels who had also once belonged to Phoenix Squadron.

"My dear," Luke said, his voice a bit thick and his smile bright, "I have been to more galas and diplomatic gatherings than I care to count, and if you don't think I get thoroughly hammered off extravagant wines and brandies, then you have truly overestimated my level of patience."

"You sound like Ben!" Leia laughed, snorting into a cup of something that might as well be lighter fluid by the smell of it.

"I… wait, really?" Luke glanced at her, startled. "I wouldn't know."

"Mhmm," Leia hummed, her eyes glazed and her cheeks flushed. "Ben had a core accent. You've got one right now."

"Damn." Luke winced. Sometimes the Coruscanti accent fell out when he least expected it. Like when he was angry, or trying too hard to put on a stoic face. Or when he was drunk. "Well, Obi-Wan Kenobi was a great negotiator and diplomat. I'd like to follow in his footsteps and become a great peacekeeper for the galaxy."

Leia smiled at him vaguely, looking truly, blissfully happy. "Good luck," she said.

Han dropped onto the hangar floor beside them, setting his bottle of rum onto the crate and leaning forward with an elbow on his knee. He smiled, and it was crooked and silly.

"Hello, children," he chirped. "I'd like to take this time to thank Luke for all the booze. It tastes like fresh piss, but boy if it doesn't do the job right!"

"You're welcome," Luke said placidly.

"I  _still_  can't quite believe you came back," Leia gasped. She jerked her finger in Han's face and turned to look at Luke. "Can you believe he came back? And he's still here! Luke! He likes us!"

"What?" Han scoffed, his eyes closing as he dropped his cheek into his fist and shrugged. "Nah… you've got me all wrong… I don't like you."

"Oh yeah?" Leia countered, smiling at him coyly. "Then why'd you come back, you big softy?"

Han blinked, his eyes dazed and his smile thin and happy. "Uhh," he said, grabbing his bottle without lifting his head, "you got me. You swayed me to your cause! Obviously."

"Obviously," Luke laughed.

Luke was thankful for this bit of reprieve. It was not much, but it would hold him steady and get him a good night's sleep, which he sorely needed. Tomorrow would be different, and it would hurt all over again, but tomorrow was tomorrow, and Luke was glad he was not alone tonight.

He noticed the approach of a Twi'lek woman, dressed in brown fatigues with her faintly lavender hued lekku bound with black leather cords. She paused a few feet behind Leia, her yellow eyes flashing with fear and uncertainty. She was flanked by the boy who had fetched Dodonna from the War Room earlier in the day.

Luke smiled at her warmly, and he pushed himself to his feet. He felt a bit wobbly, and he was a little less than aware of his surroundings, but he recognized that the woman had something to say and was scared to say it.

"Hello," he said to her. He gestured for her to come closer. She looked hesitant, her gaze flickering from Luke to Leia. "Please. Don't be shy, we really don't bite."

"Mmm," Han murmured, cheek in hand, smile plastered dopily onto his face. "Speak for yourself."

Leia giggled and she turned to peer up at the woman. Her face fell abruptly, shock crossing her pink face and causing her to jerk to her feet. Luke helped her when she stumbled, steadying her as she smoothed out the arms of her orange jumpsuit, which she had tied around her waist. Beneath it she had on a standard white tank top.

"Miss Rona," Leia gasped, smoothing back the stray wisps of her choppy hair and gaping at the Twi'lek woman. "I— I didn't know… you're in the Rebellion?"

The woman, Miss Rona, gazed at Leia with large, tired eyes. A sudden and encompassing fondness seemed to pass over Rona's dainty face, and she took a step forward. Her slender hands reached up to grasp Leia's chin gingerly.

"You've changed," Rona observed.

Leia closed her mouth, and she grasped Rona's hand in both of hers. "Miss Rona, you say this every time we meet," she laughed. "I just got a little older. It happens."

"No, Leia," she said, "sweet girl. You've changed. That fierceness in you, that fire— it has increased tenfold, but I feel as though you have found restraint."

"Uh…" Leia winced. "Maybe? I'm still working on that."

Rona scoffed, and she released Leia's chin with a deep frown. "About time you learned it," she said, shaking her head. "Do not think I forgot about the Veruna boy."

"Stop," Leia groaned, burying her face in her hands. "The last thing I want to talk about right now is Cam Veruna?"

"Who's Cam Veruna?" Han asked, sharing a small smirk with Luke. "Sounds like a real knucklehead."

"He is!" Leia gasped, whirling around. "Don't listen to Miss Rona, okay? He deserved it."

Han's eyebrows shot up, and Luke stifled a laugh. "Deserved what?" he asked.

Miss Rona sighed deeply. "When she was eleven," she said, "Leia here thought it was a fine idea to physically disfigure a local boy. He still has scars."

For a moment Han and Luke gaped before they looked at each other in astonishment. They weren't  _surprised_ — at least Luke wasn't. But it seemed so excessive, and at such a tender age too.

"He called me a slave whelp!" Leia cried defensively, her words slurring slightly as she waved viciously at nothing in particular. "He deserved it! I'm tired of defending my decision to attack him, okay?"

"While I disagree with what you did," Rona said, her voice soft and kind, "I understand."

Leia sniffed, and she nodded. "Well…" she said, rubbing her cheek anxiously. "Thank you. I think."

"No, Leia," Rona said, grasping Leia's hands and staring into her eyes. "Thank  _you_. I feel like I never did this properly."

"Did what?" Leia asked. She glanced back at Luke and Han, and her eyes widened as though she had forgotten altogether that they were there. "Oh! Oh, damn. Guys, this is my old teacher, Rona Rha."

Rona peered over Leia's shoulder, and she smiled faintly. Her pale purple face flushed rather suddenly, and she bowed her head. "Hello," she said.

"Rona," Leia gasped, taking a step back and clapping Luke on the shoulder. "This is Luke Organa, and the fool on the ground is Han Solo."

"I know of Prince Luke," Rona said, turning her gaze to Luke and extending her bow further. "And I heard of Captain Solo from the battle."

"Did you really shoot at Darth Vader?" the boy behind Rona blurted.

Han's head shot up. His eyes fluttered open, and he gaped at the boy for a moment before a sly grin tore across his mouth.

"You betcha, kid!" he gasped, slapping his hands on his knees. Luke didn't think he'd dare stand up. He'd had more drinks than himself and Leia combined. "Shot at him real good. He didn't know what to do."

The transformation on the boy's face was quick and effective. He went from stoic to awestruck, his yellow eyes glimmering brightly. Rona looked at him, and she quickly ushered him closer, her fingers dragging through the air. He shuffled quickly to her side, and she grasped his shoulders tightly.

"Leia," she said, "this is my son, Jela."

"Hello," Jela said, looking a bit sheepish as he drew back. His eyes trailed to Leia's face, and he smiled. He was noticeably missing an accent, and instead adopted the easy drawl of someone who had spent most of their time in the Outer Rim. "I've heard a lot about you, Leia."

"I…" Leia looked a little dazed. "I'm sorry, I… Miss Rona, you never said you had a son."

Rona shrugged. "I never deemed it necessary," she said. Her Rylothi accent fell over her clipped tone like a curtain. Luke spared a glance at Jela, wondering if he was hurt that his mother had failed to mention him to her student, but he merely looked at Leia like she had placed the sun in the sky.

"That…" Leia held her head as though this was all a bit too much for her, and she sighed. "I'm not gonna comment. I'm too drunk, and don't trust what I'm gonna say. Anyway, I'm glad to see you, Miss Rona."

Luke stepped up, his shoulder pressing into Leia's back as he leaned forward curiously. "I have a question," he said. When Rona glanced at him, her gaze softened, and she held Jela a little tighter. Pity sung in her eyes. Luke paused, uncertain, before he shook it off. "I hope this doesn't come off as rude, but I'm curious. Why are you here on Base One instead of with Free Ryloth?"

It was an innocent question, but Luke regretted it immediately as the guilt and terror bloomed across Rona's smooth purple face. Jela looked up at his mother, his mouth parted, as though he had never thought to ask this question.

"I was with Free Ryloth," Rona said, her eyes fluttering closed. "Briefly. However, it became apparent to everyone there that I had been a slave. Our people are a proud people, and my story is not a tragedy of losing a fight. Many of my own people— my own clan— found my choice to sell myself into slavery as a sign of my weakness."

"You sold yourself?" Leia gasped, falling back against Luke and staring dazedly ahead of her. "Oh, Miss Rona… I never knew."

"I don't publicize my affairs, Leia," Rona said softly. She squeezed Jela's shoulders, and she sighed. He looked pensive as she rested her chin against his head. "Jela, why don't you run along?"

"Mama," Jela said, taking a step back and looking his mother in the eye. "I can hear this. You know I can."

Rona laced her fingers together, her lips stretching into a grimace. Luke noted the glint of determination in Jela's yellow eyes, and he recalled being about that age and demanding his father to explain all of his secrets to him.

"Sit down," Luke said, ushering them forward and plopping down near the crate. Leia immediately fell back into place, her legs beneath her and her shoulders hunched. Rona led Jela very cautiously to Han's side. Han spared the boy a glance, and he winked at him. "Please. Tell us your story."

Rona rubbed her eyes tiredly. She looked down at Jela, who seemed to already be enrapt in what she was going to say. She sighed deeply.

"Jela was four," she said, "when his father was killed. This was about ten years ago, and Ryloth was in the midst of a rather brutal blockade due to Free Ryloth's opposition in the Tann province and in the lands surrounding it. We had no food, and our home was crumbling. Jela's father's family lived on Corellia, and my mother and father had died during the Clone Wars. I had nothing to give him, because harvesting spice had no profit. I did not even have enough money to send us to Corellia."

"So you sold yourself," Luke said, staring at the small woman and noting for the first time that she looked both very young and very old, like a sculpture.

Rona nodded, and she looked down at Jela. He was sitting beside her with his jaw set and his protruding brow furrowed. When his mother's gaze became apparent, he turned his yellow eyes up to her face, and he took her hand.

"I used what little money I had, plus what I had gotten from the slaver, to send Jela to Corellia," she said, her shoulders slumped and her eyes glistening. "He grew up there. And once Leia and her Jedi friend freed me, I went back to Ryloth and told Cham Syndulla my story."

"Syndulla?" Jela gasped, twisting to face his mother and grinning broadly. "Like Hera Syndulla? The general?"

"Cham is the leader of Free Ryloth, love," Rona told her son, stroking his cheek and chuckling. "He is Hera Syndulla's father."

"That's amazing!" Jela's eyes were huge with wonder and delight. "I had no idea Hera Syndulla was even from Ryloth. She doesn't have an accent, or anything."

"Hera likes to curb her accent," Luke said. "She thinks it's distracting, and makes her appear less authoritative. Plus, she spent a lot of time away from Ryloth and dedicated her life to the Rebel Alliance."

"You know her?" Jela asked, his eyes sparkling. "Like, personally?"

Luke laughed, and he rubbed the back of his neck. It felt warm. "Yeah," he said. "Uhh, I was really close to her son. Um, not her  _real_  son, like, her adopted son." Luke flushed, and he ignored the pointed stare Han shot him. "Anyway, have you ever thought about broadcasting your story?"

By the flash of panic in Rona's eyes, and they way she scooted back before she replied, Luke already knew the answer.

"No," she said. "Why would I do that? It seems useless."

"It isn't." Luke peered at her, feeling the beginnings of an idea blooming inside his mind as he smiled faintly. "Theoretically, if I were to build a case against the Empire, could I use your story as an example?"

"Profiting off the little guy, eh?" Han spoke up, his already slow drawl expanding in length and dropping a few octaves. His eyes fluttered, and he looked half asleep. "I see how it is, princeliness."

"Han," Luke sighed, "in order to make a convincing argument— in order to get anyone to believe in a cause, to have  _faith_  in you, there must be actual reason backing it. The Empire is detrimental to the health and safety of families all over the galaxy. I just need to prove that."

"And you think," Han said, straightening up and lifting his chin haughtily, "that some pretty words and a sweet ol' smile and those big blue eyes will make the Emperor see all the evil he's done, and go, "Ohh! I'm so sorry, Prince Luke! You're  _right_! No more Empire. I like democracy again." That's real cute."

"Oh, no," Luke said, laughing at Han's simple words and simple tone. "The Emperor will die before that happens. And we will execute him when we win. What I'm saying is that our cause is more sympathetic to those who can see reason. Who feel guilty for their part in the Imperial regime. People can have doubts— can have changes of heart— by the sway of words."

"You don't know that," Han argued, his words muddled by his fiercely shaking head.

"I do, in fact." Luke stood up, and he wobbled only slightly, his fingers whisking his hair back from his face as he glanced down at Han stubbornly. "I was a senator. I was a prince. I was born to senators and queens. I know this, because this is who I am. This is in my blood. Democracy and diplomacy  _do_  work. We just have to remind people that they are an option."

The way he spoke was heated, his words half spat from his mouth and half culled from his tongue. He inhaled deeply once he finished, and he felt tears burn hotly in his eyes. So he turned away.

He found his way back to his room, and woke the next morning with a rather bad headache, a snake writhing around inside his stomach, and little to no recollection of the festivities of the night before.

It took him entirely too long to get out of bed. Once he'd woken up and thrown up into his toilet, he'd stripped down and gotten into the shower. Water on Yavin 4 was plentiful and warm, and he was thankful for it. He sat down beneath the consistent stream, feeling it dig into his spine, and he lowered his face into his knees.

Knowing Alderaan was gone,  _feeling_  that Alderaan was gone, was so much different than accepting it. There was a hole inside his heart, and feeling miserable and hungover seemed like the perfect way to spend his first morning without a home.

There had been so many things he had been prepared for. Vader finding out that he was his son, Vader killing Bail, Vader killing  _him_ , but never this. He was spiraling out of his own mind, watching himself fall deeper and deeper into this pit of confusion and despair. Whatever had been before was nothing now. Luke had nothing to look back on. He was a boy with no future and no past.

Would dying on the Death Star had been any better?

Would Alderaan still be here if he had told Vader the truth? If he had given up the rebel base along with his secret lineage?

The water pooled over his eyes and through his mouth. He knew they were supposed to conserve water. They didn't want to draw attention to themselves.

But the Empire already knew they were here. So what did he care?

 _Orphaned twice,_  he thought dimly,  _and who's to blame?_

Luke dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and stifled a scream.

Darth Vader. Darth Vader. Darth Vader.

It was hard not to hope the man was suffering just as much as Luke was, mourning his long lost son, wishing that he had wrung Luke's throat while he'd had the chance.

It was hard not to wish he had spilled his guts upon the floor, fallen to his knees, and screamed the truth. Because the truth was poisoning him, and he felt it in his blood and he knew it was lodged inside his heart. What could he do? He'd bleed himself dry if it would make it all stop.

Once he finally extricated himself from the safety of the warm shower, he looked at himself in the mirror for a while. Luke had never considered himself ugly— in fact, it was just the opposite. While Luke had never been vain, he certainly understood that he had a nice face and a passable physique. Now he looked at himself, and he wanted to vomit.

In fact, he did.

So he brushed his teeth, discarded his towel, and dressed himself in fatigues. His hair dried wavy on his forehead, and he summoned a holo from his personal drive. He sat on his floor, his chin in his hands, as he watched the speech play from the beginning.

Halfway through, someone knocked at his door. His eyes did not waver from the woman in the holo as he said, in a noncommittal tone, "Come in."

Leia stormed in like a small hurricane, her short hair loose around her ears and bouncing as she strode up to him. Luke did not look up, but kept an eye on her from his periphery.

The hologram smiled at him, and her sweet voice echoed inside his head.  _This war is supposed to save them from suffering, not increase it._

Leia stood before him, her mouth open, but she did not speak. Her eyes landed on the holo on the floor, a waist up view of a long dead senator who held her chin high and spoke like a queen. Her hair was compiled at the top of her head, smoothed out with wax and sculpted to fit among the thin bands of a gold headdress. She seemed to be the pinnacle of Republic finery, the detail of her gown smooth and elaborate even in the colorless holo.

" _I support our soldiers_ ," Padmé Amidala said, " _whether they come from clone factories, or from any of the thousands of systems loyal to the Republic. But if we continue to impoverish our people, it is not in the battlefield where Dooku will defeat us, but in our own homes. Therefore, it is our duty, and our responsibility to preserve the lives of those around us by defeating this bill!"_

For a moment, Padmé seemed frozen. Determination settled on her pretty face, and Luke noted not for the first time the scrape on her cheek. His father had explained this to him several times, that it had been  _him_  who had been prepared to make a speech in opposition to the bill. There had been a bit of a struggle, as those who had been in favor of the bill had thrown their weight around, and Bail Organa had ended up in the hospital that day. So his mother had spoken instead. This had all been prepared on short notice, and spoken likely without a single draft.

Luke had seen this holo many times. He'd molded his particular way of speech-making after Padmé's example. He had memorized every word, every gesticulation, every bat of his mother's eyelash.

And he still could not see a woman foolish enough to fall in love with Darth Vader.

The claps erupted, and his mother's shoulders rose and fell. Her huge eyes fluttered closed as relief passed briefly over her face.

"Who is that?" Leia asked suddenly. Luke paused the holo. It froze on a pan of Padmé, her head bowed and her fingers laced together. Leia knelt down, and leaned forward to examine the holo a bit closer. "She's beautiful."

"Senator Padmé Amidala," Luke said, his voice thin and his eyes watery. He blinked, and sniffed a bit, feeling self-conscious as he reached out and turned the holo off. He felt Leia's gaze acutely, like a thousand suns burning his face, and he noted for the first time that Han was standing in his doorway. He quickly stood up, turning away to set the holoprojector on his bed. He took the opportunity to wipe his eyes hastily.

"Who?" Leia sounded confused. "A… friend of yours?"

"You really aren't the brightest, are you, sweetheart?" Han drawled as he strode into the room with a slow, steady gait. Luke glanced back at him as he draped himself over Leia's shoulder. "That lady ain't any senator from  _this_  decade, I'll tell you that much. Dooku? Clone factory? This old girl's a relic from the Clone Wars."

Luke inhaled deeply, and he spun around. His smile was tight and thin. "Very good, Han," he said brightly. "You're right. She was a senator during the Clone Wars."

"Well," Leia said, elbowing Han and shoving him off her. He winced, and backed off with his arms in the air. "What's she up to now? Sounds like she'd be sympathetic to the cause."

Luke backed up into his back. His knees wobbled pitifully, and he sat down. "She…" Luke shook his head. "She was. Sympathetic to the cause." His fingers trembled as he snatched up the holoprojector and clutched it in his hands. "My father told me that it was her idea. The first person to ever truly rebel against the Empire, to openly speak out against its formation, was Padmé Amidala."

It was clear by the stark, startled looks that passed over Han and Leia's faces that they understood the implications of his words. Han looked away sharply, while Leia glanced at the holoprojector and frowned.

"She died," Luke said. The words felt heavy in his mouth. "Only a day or two after the Empire formed."

"They just… killed her?" Leia gasped, cold rage flickering in her eyes. "But she was a senator! Doesn't that mean anything?"

Luke looked at her pointedly, nonverbally gesturing to himself in order to remind her that he had also been a senator. That didn't seem to convince her.

"But that's not fair!" she cried.

"Honey," Han said with a scoff, "it's the Empire. What about it is fair, again?"

"Officially, there was no suggestion of foul play," Luke said dully. "I read the coroner's report, and it was supposedly a complication due to her pregnancy. Apparently she'd never gone to a doctor about it, which is a whole different can of worms I do not want to go into. But to  _not_  have even a check up when in the final stage of a pregnancy, and to be under the stress she'd been under at the time— she was very close with the Jedi, and was a huge proponent for democracy, so in the matter of a single day she lost probably close to a few hundred friends and her entire belief system. So, officially, she died of a heart attack."

"That girl?" Han pointed to the unlit holoprojector in Luke's hands. "How old was she even, like, twenty three?"

"Twenty eight," Luke said.

"Whatever!" Han shook his head. "No way it was a heart attack."

"I don't really want to talk about how she died," Luke said suddenly, tossing the holoprojector away and standing up. "I know you two are here to bring me to see Mon. Did she tell you I need time to mourn, but this is an important debriefing?"

Han and Leia stared at him before sharing a significant glance.

Luke couldn't help but smile, and he shook his head. "Yeah," he said. "Thought so. Well, we shouldn't keep her waiting."

Then he brushed past them, his head held high and his eyes straight forward. It was what Padmé would do. At least, that's what he convinced himself. It was easier that way, believing his long dead birth mother was guiding him somehow. She was not Alderaan. She had nothing to do with Alderaan, but she was close enough to the inner fortitude of Bail and Breha that it helped.

"Luke," Leia gasped, jogging to catch up with him as he strode through the hall. "Luke, we came to see how you were doing."

"I'm alive," he said, "thank you for asking. That is all your doing, so credit where credit is due."

Leia seemed briefly puzzled as she struggled to keep up with his pace. "No," she said. "No, I meant… what happened to Alderaan…"

It was a terrible thing, the dawning realization that he was alone in this world. Everything he was, everything he was supposed to be, had been blown to pieces. He didn't know how to feel or think or react like a normal human.

"Leia," he said, turning to look at her. "I don't want to talk about Alderaan."

She looked at him, her mouth falling open and her brown eyes flashing worriedly. "Are you sure?" she asked, worry creeping into her voice as she hurried to keep in step with him. "I know that this can be a lot to hold in. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

He closed his eyes. He wanted nothing. He needed nothing. He was nothing. It was a hard truth, but he swallowed it dry, and he looked down at her, and he nodded.

Then he kept walking.

Mon did not ask him about how he was doing, which he was grateful for. She merely informed him about the ceremony being held that night, and how given the nature of the battle and Luke's station, he was the best choice to award the remaining pilots for their valor.

He did not argue with her. He saw no point. Was she not right?

Luke had discarded his long, hooded white tunic and dug around in his limited wardrobe for something passable for such a ceremony. He hardly needed to wear his senatorial dress here, so he never brought nice clothing with him. He dug through tunics and trousers, finding nothing that truly suited the occasion. He decided to make do with a plain white doublet, a pair of trousers, and a passable replica of the velvet cloak he had lost on Vader's ship when he'd been kidnapped from Naboo.

It was the first time in a very long time he had seen it. He paused to examine the silvery embroidery— the pale grapevines and doves that were unique to Alderaan.

He tossed the cloak over his shoulders and clipped it in place. He could not worry about that right now. All his regret and longing to stay rooted to the bottom of his chest, because he had too much to do, and too little time. The base was being evacuated tomorrow. They didn't even have another base to flee to.

So there could be no crying. Not now. Not when so much was at stake.

Luke went through the motions of the ceremony, awarding the remaining pilots with small, soft smiles. They became more and more earnest as each man passed by, until finally Han and Leia stepped up, side by side, smiles quirked on their lips. They looked like ruffians, the pair of them, with their Corellian cut jackets and their knowing gazes. Leia wore a pair of brown trousers, a white shirt, and an oversized yellow jacket. It was very worn and beaten up, and Luke suspected by the singed shoulder and frayed hem that it had been Han's.

After Luke had placed the medals over the heads of his friends, he spoke up. He watched all eyes turn from the war heroes to him.

"I'd like to take this moment to remember all those who fought and died heroically," he said, enunciating and projecting, his chin high and his voice edging closely to the way he knew Padmé Amidala had once spoken. "Members of both Red and Gold Squadron, as well as Rogue One, Saw Gererra, and his Partisans, and finally my home world of Alderaan. They died so we could keep the dream living."

It was not part of the plan. Luke understood his role in this was to look pretty and grateful, and hand out the medals, and then keep quiet. He was supposed to be in mourning. He shouldn't even be smiling in front of this many people.

But he'd let the Empire take so much from him already. He couldn't lose his will, his wit, or his smile too.

And just like that, the award ceremony was over. Soldiers scattered, darting through doors and making last minute preparations for the start of evac the next morning. Luke sat down on the dais and wrapped his cloak tightly around him. It was not cold. He was sweating, in fact. But he pressed his lips to the silver threaded grapes, and he thought that maybe he might taste the vineyards from the mountains surrounding Aldera.

Leia and Han sat down on either side of him.

There were things he wanted to tell them. Things he thought he could say, but found stuck inside his throat. He felt silly now, with his silver circlet and silver cloak. Like he was playing pretend at being a prince.

A familiar tremor in the Force caused him to jolt to his feet. He scanned the crowd of Rebels, stepping down from the dais like a blind man, his hands outstretched and his eyes glazed. A pair of montrals jutted out from the crowd, and he stepped into the throng of passing soldiers.

"Ahsoka…?" he said dimly, watching her face appear and disappear in the shuffle of gray uniforms. His eyes widened as the truth settled in, and he bolted forward. "Ahsoka!"

She met him halfway, parting the waves of Rebel soldiers just by stepping. Once he was close enough, she flung her arms open and gathered him up in a strong, sturdy embrace. His arms closed around her waist, and his face fell into her shoulder. It had been about a year since they had last seen each other, but she still held him just right, with her arms across his back and her hand cradling the back of his head.

"You're alive," she murmured into his hair, rocking him back and forth gingerly. "I heard— well, it doesn't matter what I heard."

Luke did not respond. He simply hugged her tighter, his arms clinging to her waist and his forehead digging into her collar bone. Everything that had happened in the last two days suddenly came rushing to the forefront of his mind, purged like vomit and welling up in his eyes as he clung to her shakily. A sob threatened to rip its way out of his throat, and he held it down in the pit of his chest.

"Luke?" Ahsoka's flesh hand fell upon his forehead, and she smoothed back his hair as she pushed his head back carefully. He knew his face was ruddy and wet, his eyes glistening as he gazed up at her dimly. She had hardly aged since the day he had found her on Malachor, though her montrals were a bit pointier and her lekku a bit longer. Her prosthetic hand, which was covered fingers to elbow in a black glove, grasped his cheek. "I'm so sorry. I should have been there."

"No!" Luke gasped, a fleeting image of Vader hovering over him drifting through his mind. He gripped Ahsoka's arms, his tears forgotten, and he stared into her eyes with the utmost sincerity. "He would have killed you. No way. It's better that you weren't there. He would have killed you, or used you as leverage to get me to tell him—  _no_." He shook his head fiercely. "You were safe. That matters more."

The flash of deep, desperate grief that surfaced on Ahsoka's face before she drew a sympathetic smile was haunting. Luke remembered how she had been when he had found her. Haunted by a battle that he could not properly comprehend, left abandoned on a planet that would certainly drive her mad. And she had certainly been half-mad when he'd dragged her onto his ship.

"What did he do?" Ahsoka demanded. Her voice was suddenly very low, and very dark, and brimming with something dangerous that he had never heard from Ahsoka before.

Was that hate?

"What?" Luke asked faintly, suddenly acutely aware of the surrounding officers and pilots. They had made a scene. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a blonde pilot who he knew was Alderaanian eye them with a frown.

"Vader," Ahsoka said, her voice clipped and edging on a hiss as she grasped his face gently with both hands and turned his head from side to side. "Did he get inside your head?"

"No!" Luke winced at the sound of his own voice. It cracked, pitching high on the edge of fear and apprehension. Fresh tears broke through his lashes, and he shook his head.

"But he tortured you," Ahsoka said. She had his head angled one particular way, and her large blue eyes were glued to the aggravated puncture wound on the side of his neck, where a blue vein protruded awkwardly.

"I didn't tell him anything," Luke said defensively, taking a step back and staring up at Ahsoka with wide eyes. "You taught me better than that."

Her expression softened, and her hands hovered in the air momentarily before she dropped them to her sides. She was wearing a dress that Sola must have had specially tailored for her tall physique, as it was a royal blue dress that cinched dramatically at her waist, leaving a waterfall of flared fabric to fade from blue to white. It ended at her knees, which were braced by high black leather lace up sandals. It must have been summer on Naboo, because her shoulders were bare. The glove on her flesh hand neglected her fingers, and met between her thumb and forefinger.

It was then that Luke noticed she had adopted a new headdress. She must have been in a hurry, or lacking in garments proper for a warrior, because her head was adorned with a smooth silver chain that covered the flesh where her forehead and montrals met with medallions.

"That's not what I…" Ahsoka sighed, and she closed her eyes. She covered her mouth with her hand and looked away sharply.

"I know," he said, taking her free hand and peering up into her face, "okay? I know it's hard. But you helped me so much, Ahsoka. Really.  _Truly_. I never would have stood a chance without you."

"That's not the point," Ahsoka whispered.

"Well, you're not being a hundred percent with me," he said, rolling his eyes. "It doesn't matter if he tortured me. He's done worse to you."

Ahsoka shook her head, the silver medallions shifting on her wide forehead. She looked down at him, and her blue eyes gleamed with guilt and fear. "You don't want to get into this here, Luke," she said.

"No, I think I do," he said. Tears dried hotly on his cheeks, and he took a step back, squinting into her face. "You're afraid. Of what?  _Vader_? Really, Ahsoka?"

"I'm not afraid of Vader," she said, her voice full of grief and venomous disgust. "You don't know what you're saying."

"I don't want to fight with you, but you're not making any sense!" Luke's fingers closed into fists at his sides as he searched her face wildly for an answer. "I've been tortured by Vader before, Ahsoka. That doesn't bother me."

"It should!" Ahsoka snapped. "He should scare you! You were right, when you said that he would kill me, but you think he'd spare you that mercy easily? No."

"He was going to kill me," Luke said. "Tarkin signed the execution order himself. I narrowly escaped."

"I don't want to argue about what Vader likes to do with prisoners, okay?" Ahsoka held up her hands in defeat, her voice steadily falling back to a level tone. "I'm just saying that escaping him twice is a miracle."

Luke had no plans on broadcasting his Force sensitivity to the entire rebellion, so he merely nodded. "You're right," he said. "It is a miracle. One that I am not taking for granted, and neither should you."

There was something beneath the surface of this argument that Luke couldn't quite place. There was nothing to fight about, and yet they were both heated and terrified, biting back on sharing their intimate knowledge of just what Vader was capable of. Luke knew what Vader had done to Ahsoka. He had been by her side for three years, helping her recover slowly from that battle, and he did not want to see her go through that again.

But she did not want him to experience what she had. So they were at a stalemate.

"We should... talk about this somewhere else," Ahsoka decided, drawing her mechanical hand over her mouth and closing her eyes. She was as keenly aware of the stares she was getting as he was, though she hid it well. As a Togruta, it was difficult for her to blend in anywhere, so she was probably used to stares. It didn't help that her clothing, courtesy of Naboo, was more elegant and colorful than anything in the entire temple.

"Okay." Luke brushed past her. His heart was not in this, whatever this was. It was like he had forgotten how to act around people, and that made him feel ridiculously numb.

Ahsoka followed him through the corridors of the temple, her lightsabers bouncing at her hips. He remembered as an afterthought that he should probably introduce Leia, and vice versa. However, he was more concerned with settling this issue with Vader than anything else.

The door slid closed behind them as Luke turned to face her. She was taking in the sights of his meager dwellings on Yavin, a single cot, an open bag full of clothes, and a small box of trinkets he kept at his bedside. He had a personal fresher, which was about as luxurious as it got in the temple.

Ahsoka's eyes flashed back to his face. Her arms crossed over her stomach, and her eyes softened considerably.

"I don't want to fight, Luke," she said softly.

"I don't know why this turned into a fight," he replied, his shoulders straight and his head high. He felt like gravity was crushing him. "What happened on the Death Star isn't important. I didn't tell Vader anything, and I succeeded in my mission. So why does it matter?"

"Why does it  _matter_?" Ahsoka huffed, her knuckles closing tightly around her elbows as she glared up at the ceiling. "He tortured you, Luke! I'm allowed to be upset about that."

"I don't know why you're taking it so personally," he said, half turning away from her and finding the blank face of the opposing wall to be a more fascinating sight to behold than her face. "If I'm okay with it, why can't you be?"

"Because I care about you," Ahsoka gasped, taking a step forward. Luke resisted the sudden urge to step back, and blinked rapidly as her fingers closed around his shoulders. She gently pulled him into a small side-hug. "I'm worried. Okay? I don't know very many people who can walk away from a torture session with Darth Vader and be so passive about it."

"That's me," Luke said dryly. "Passive to the bone."

"Luke…" She sighed and took his face in his hands once more, searching his eyes and his mouth and his nose. Her brow furrowed. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

He was struck suddenly by a chill. It started in his stomach, and it bloomed outwards and upwards, warping around his heart and turning it to ice.

Without hesitation, he blinked up into her face, and he said, "No, of course not. Why?"

It was like elastic snapping. Their bond, which was nothing but a few strands of thread, broke apart and fell between them in the following silence. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was parted, but she said nothing, did nothing, to suggest she did not believe him.

When Ahsoka recovered, from whatever had just transpired in the Force, she spoke quickly and precisely. "You just don't seem like yourself," she said. "That's all."

Luke pulled away from her, and he smiled grimly. "I'm sorry," he said. His voice was rough, but earnest. He took both her hands and squeezed them tight. "You're right. I don't feel like myself at all." He took a deep, shaky breath, and he stepped back. His fingers whisked through his hair, and he shook his head. "I feel like I'm drowning. I can still hear them, you know. In my head. I don't remember sleeping last night, but my dreams were full of them. The panic and the devastation— the realization that they were all about to die." His hands slid down his face, and he backpedaled slowly. "I might have saved them. If I had said something."

Ahsoka looked down at him, and through his fingers he saw that her eyes were glistening.

"No, Luke," she whispered, "there was nothing you could have said or done."

He stifled a moan as he sunk down onto his bed. "You don't know that…" He shrunk, his shoulders slumping and his breathing irregular. He couldn't think, he couldn't feel. He was something else now. He was nothing, he was everything, and he was the Force.

He was the Force, and the Force was tired.

"Don't you think I do?" Ahsoka's voice was soft and dim, a plea hidden beneath the surety of her tone that only he could hear.

That's right. Ahsoka Tano, disgraced Jedi padawan. Ahsoka Tano, no Jedi. Ahsoka Tano, only one of her kind. Last of her kind.

Luke pulled his legs up onto his bed, and he tucked his lips into his knees. He stared ahead of him miserably, and he wished he could be better. He wished he could pack away all his sorrow and confusion and let himself be utterly isolated from the very thought of feeling. He had a Rebellion to run. He had so many legacies riding on his shoulders. Rogue One. Alderaan. Bail Organa.

Padmé Amidala.

There were no tears to wipe away, so he lifted his head and set his chin on his knees. He tilted his head at Ahsoka, and watched her dimly.

"You know, I've been meaning to ask," he said, raising his eyes to hers and smiling faintly. "What's with the outfit?"

Her face, which had been stark in its mournful stare, broke into a bright grin. "What do you mean?" she asked, laughter edging on her tone. She plucked up the edges of her skirt and twirled almost girlishly. "You don't like it?"

"No," Luke said, his smile widening, "I  _love_  it. But it's totally different from your usual style. Naboo really got to you, huh?"

Ahsoka dropped the soft chiffon hem of her skirt, and she relaxed back into her normal stature. "Pooja and Sola are devils," she admitted. "Fashion devils. I kept them at bay as long as I could, Luke, but they were too strong."

"Oh, yes," Luke said sagely, "Pooja will do that. Are the medallions hers?"

Her grin quirked half her mouth. "How'd you guess?"

"Senators think alike," he said, smiling up at her innocently. "I would have done the same, if I were dressing you."

Ahsoka's laugh was a relief. It was bright and bubbly, a more innocent and soft side of her that did not often make it into public view. But Luke knew her well. He had studied her way of moving, let her flit in and out of his mind. She knew everything about him.

Except for one, incredibly irritating and significant detail.

"Ahsoka," he said, recalling something important. "There actually is something I need to tell you."

Her eyes met his sharply, all her attention starkly settling upon his face. She moved toward him in two swift strides, and she sat down on his bed beside him.

"You can tell me anything," she said.

Luke looked into her face, noting the softness of her cheeks and the line of her jaw and the wideness of her eyes. He knew her, and he knew that this was the truth.

But Luke was now the only person alive who knew that Vader was his father.

He was already so desperately lonely. If she knew, would she feel the same way?

No.

There was no room for the truth inside his head, inside his heart, or inside his mouth.

Let the truth rot.

So he opened his mouth, and he chose an alternative.

"There's a girl," he said.

The white markings on her cheeks stretched as her dimples caved them in. Her smile was too bright and too amused. "Uh-huh?" she said, dropping her chin into her hands. "What girl?"

"Not like that," he said hurriedly. He thought briefly of Ezra Bridger, and regret pricked his heart like a thorn. "She's a friend of mine— she actually saved me. From the Death Star."

"Oh?" Ahsoka blinked rapidly, but her smile did not fade. "I'd love to meet her."

"Good," Luke said, "because she's probably about to—"

His door slid open, and like clockwork Leia strolled in, her hands stuffed in her knew Corellian cut jacket. Han's clothes were incredibly loose and ill-fitting on her, but she wore them like a second skin. The trousers, he knew, were not Han's. Leia was  _little_ , and it was almost hard to really accept that about her. She did not seem small.

When she got to the middle of his room, she spared a glance at Ahsoka. Han's jacket was a shroud, and it fell nearly to her knees. She folded her arms across her chest, and quirked a thin eyebrow.

"I'm sorry for intruding," she said, not sounding sorry at all, "but Han said he'd come in and ask what was happening if I didn't. And you know Han."

"Ah," Luke said, smiling as fondly as he could, "yes. As intimately as a day and a half of friendship will allow."

Leia laughed. Her hair was pulled back, two braids lining the sides of her head and meeting at a tight knot at the base of her neck. A few wisps of hair had come loose since the ceremony, tickling her cheeks and forehead in small waves.

"Well, I can't say I blame him," she admitted, throwing another glance at Ahsoka. "You made quite the scene."

"That was my fault," Ahsoka sighed. She straightened up and shook her head. "I came here as soon as I heard about Alderaan. I didn't even think about what I might be walking into."

"That's not your fault," Luke told her with a sigh. "Don't worry about it. We were both just entirely too relieved to see each other safe. There's no crime in caring about people."

Ahsoka hummed quietly to herself. She lifted herself up, bouncing onto the balls of her feet and stepping toward Leia with her hand outstretched. Her lightsabers swung at her black leather belt, and Luke watched Leia's eyes swerve immediately toward them. To her credit, her surprise was muted by her confusion. Her eyebrows knitted together, and her shoulders hunched apprehensively.

"My name," Ahsoka said, "is Ahsoka Tano. I've been Luke's tutor for a few years."

"Tutor," she repeated. Her gaze flickered down to Ahsoka's smooth-hilted lightsabers.

Ahsoka followed her gaze. Luke dropped his feet back onto the floor, and he watched curiously as Ahsoka's hand drooped.

"And bodyguard," she admitted, sounding careful and unsure. It was easy to surmise that her time in the rural, isolated Lake Country of Naboo, she had forgotten how dangerous it was to keep her lightsabers on her.

Luke sighed. He knew he could put this off a little longer, but he figured if he waited until the occasion arose that he had to use the Force, Leia would hate him.

"Ahsoka was my tutor in the Force," he said, as delicately as he could. At first his words did not quite faze Leia.

And then she looked at him sharply, her jaw falling open and her eyes growing wide.

" _What_?" she gasped. "The Force?"

"Yes."

"But... but you...!" Leia blinked rapidly, and she closed her eyes. She was silent for a few moments, and then her eyelids snapped open. She then rounded on him, her gaze acusatory. "You were  _shielding_! Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"I'm saying something now."

"Not the point!" She huffed rather dramatically, and folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes softened a bit, and she looked a bit hopeful. "Are you a Jedi, then?"

"No," Luke said gravely. "I am not, nor will I ever be, a Jedi."

Leia did her best to hide her disappointment. He watched her bury it quickly, but it left a mark on her face.

She then studied Ahsoka for a few moments, her gaze sharp and intuitive. She then reached out, and clapped her hand into Ahsoka's metal one.

"I'm Leia Skywalker," she said. Her voice was casual, maybe even distracted, and she did not seem to notice the fresh disbelief that bloomed across Ahsoka's face. Luke leaned forward and watched her closely.

"Skywalker…?" Ahsoka said faintly. Her gaze fluttered down to her hand in Leia's, and her mouth fell open.

Leia actually laughed. She released Ahsoka's hand, and shrugged off Han's jacket, revealing her white shirt tucked into high-waisted trousers. Two lightsabers were clasped to the loops of her belt. Ahsoka gazed at them for a moment before taking a very large step back. Her hands drew shakily toward her mouth.

" _You're_ a Jedi, right?" Leia placed her hands on her hips, and she shrugged. "Guess you knew my dad, then."

"Your…  _what_ …?" Ahsoka's eyelashes fluttered as she blinked rapidly. She nearly backed up into a wall, her hands over her mouth and her brow furrowed. Then her eyes widened, and she dropped her hands to her side. "You're Anakin's daughter?"

Leia's smile was thin and unfazed. "Is that really that surprising?" she asked, tilting her head. "I know I don't look much like him, but give me a break."

"That's… not it." Ahsoka rubbed her eyes, as though perhaps she could not quite believe what she was seeing. "I… I just… I'm sorry how old are you? Where are you from? Who is your mother?"

Leia's posture was entirely too relaxed as she blinked at Ahsoka dully. She leaned back, her arms folding across her chest, and she said without faltering, "Nineteen. Tatooine. I don't know."

"You don't—?" Ahsoka shot her a brief look of shock, before she shook her head. "Nevermind. That's not important. If your mother didn't tell you about Anakin, then who did? Do you have other family? On… Tatooine?"

"Yes," Leia said, her eyes growing suddenly very distant. "I have an aunt and uncle there right now. I'm working on fake credentials, but I don't know where I can even relocate them."

Ahsoka's eyes were glazed over. She stood dazedly, watching Leia like she was a blood-and-bone ghost. "An aunt and uncle… okay." She looked away sharply, and she frowned. "Anakin never talked about siblings."

"My uncle's his step-brother," Leia explained with a shrug. "They weren't close, but Ben said they were the closest thing to family I had left, after my father died."

"You never told me about this," Luke said, rising to his feet. Leia looked up at him, and she frowned deeply.

"Why would I have?" she asked. "We were basically almost dying for two days straight. Not a lot of time to spill my family history."

Luke couldn't help but smirk, and nod a bit. "Fair point," he said. "But if your family needs a new home, I can try to pull some strings. Chandrila is under heavy occupation right now because of Mon's open defiance of the Empire in the senate two years ago, but we have contacts who could get you there. There's also Lothal, Pantora, or Naboo."

"Varykino," Ahsoka blurted, tearing her gaze from Leia's face for the first time in order to face Luke fully. "It's unlikely that I'll be going back to Naboo, and it's very easy to hide from Imperial scrutiny there."

"Varykino," Luke said thoughtfully. He nodded, wondering how his aunt and cousins would feel about him dropping more refugees on their doorsteps. They had been fine with it before, but Luke was pushing his luck. He'd never actually told them about Padmé, and the longer he stayed away from Naboo, the more he regretted it. And the harder it became to imagine telling them. "That could work. Leia, I can make the arrangements necessary once we're off Yavin."

Leia stared at him. Her brown eyes had flown open wide, and she gaped at him for a moment before letting a small, soft smile of disbelief fall over her lips.

"You won't regret this," she gasped, stepping forward and snatching Luke's hands up in her own. Luke blinked down at her, once again struck by how small she was as she squeezed his hands and beamed up at him. "They're good people, and they'll do whatever work they can to make up for this."

"Don't worry about it, Leia," Luke told her, grasping her hands gently and shooting her a small smile of reassurance. "We'll sort it out later. For now, I'd like you and Ahsoka to get better acquainted."

Leia's eyes flicked back toward Ahsoka, weighing on her face with both curiosity and concern. She looked back at Luke with a frown.

"Are you sure about this?" she whispered. She stepped closer, and lowered her voice even more, while her chin fell toward her chest and her eyes narrowed warily.

"Trust me," Luke said, reaching out and cupping her cheek. His fingers caught in the messy wisps of her dark hair, and she frowned at him. "Would I lie to you?"

Leia's narrowed eyes flashed warily, and he watched her nostrils flare as she opened her mouth, and then promptly swallowed whatever harsh retort she'd had ready for him.

"Okay," she said, whirling to face Ahsoka. She folded her arms across her chest, and she nodded. "So you're a Jedi. So am I."

For what it was worth, Ahsoka hid her grief well. Her large blue eyes flickered briefly over Leia's casual posture, to the lightsabers at her belt. They lingered there as she spoke softly, removing the edges of her guilt and confusion so that Luke could only infer what she was feeling by the furrow of her brow.

"I am not a Jedi," she said, after a small bout of silence that had left the room with a sudden weight. Her words only seemed to apply more pressure, and Leia stared at Ahsoka blankly.

"What do you mean?" She turned to Luke, her eyes sharp and careful as they absorbed every twitch of Luke's face. "What does she mean?"

"Ahsoka never finished her training," Luke told her gently. "So she was never technically knighted."

"I left the Order," Ahsoka corrected Luke. He looked at her sharply, attempting in vain to mask his surprise. She merely smiled sadly. "I have told this story in pieces, Luke, but never all at once."

"Why did you leave?" Leia demanded.

Luke looked down at her, shocked at how ready she was to take a firm stance on this matter. Her expression was unreadable, and her head was tilted slightly to the side.

For a moment, Ahsoka merely stared at her. There was something sad drifting beneath the surface of her gaze, and she closed her eyes.

"I left," Ahsoka said quietly, "because I felt like it was something I had to do. You won't understand it, because you have never experienced what the Jedi Order once was, but I will be the first to admit they were a flawed organization." She paused, and them her expression twisted in disgust. "Not flawed enough to commit mass mutiny, like the Emperor claims, but we were not exactly the paragon of justice we claimed to me by the end of the Clone Wars. We had a… falling out, of sorts."

"The trial," Luke said. He knew this part. He had always assumed Ahsoka had simply been banished, though, rather than leaving of her own volition.

Ahsoka nodded slowly, and she leaned back against the wall. "I was framed for a crime I didn't commit," she told Leia, glazing over details she had focused on when telling Luke various elements of this story. "The Jedi Order allowed me to be put on trial. By the senate. Which was unorthodox, and a mistake on their part. This sort of thing would normally be handled as an internal affair, but because the Jedi were so closely tied to the senate during the war… it was a mess." Ahsoka sighed, and she rubbed her forehead tiredly. "I was sentenced to death. I would have been killed, and the Order was not going to do anything about it. The only reason I am here today, Leia, is because your father found the real perpetrator and brought her to justice."

Leia's eyes grew wide, and her arms fell from across her chest as she leaned forward. "My father?" she echoed, the flash of intrigue that swerved across her face diluted by her amazement and shock. "He saved you?"

Ahsoka looked at her. Her gaze was more languid and more defeated than Luke had ever seen her look in all the time that he knew her. When she smiled, it was a barren and fearful thing.

"Yes," she said, her voice small and distant. "Anakin Skywalker saved my life. More times than I can count."

"Then…" Leia straightened up, her smile wide and disbelieving. "You knew him well?"

Ahsoka smiled back, and the smile remained faint and ghostly on her lips. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling visibly, and she turning her head up high.

"I was Anakin Skywalker's apprentice," she said. When Leia froze and gaped at her, she averted her gaze sharply. Her flesh fingers locked with her mechanical hand, and she peered up at the ceiling. "He taught me… a lot of things. How to be a Jedi. How to be a soldier. How to be a person." Her blue eyes were glassy and dim as they slid sharply to Leia's face. "He was an incredible teacher, and a dear friend."

Leia's parted mouth closed, and her smile was soft and radiant. Luke could feel her in the Force, if only just barely, and what he felt was a strong draw. He was coaxed in by the flow of warmth that radiated from her. She was a flame, and he was a moth.

"Did you know Ben?" she asked.

Ahsoka tilted her head curiously. Her gaze fell back to the lightsabers on Leia's belt, and for a brief moment she seemed startled.

"Ben…?" She pointed to the lightsaber on Leia's left. "Is that his lightsaber?"

Leia looked down, looking as though she had forgotten the lightsaber was there. She unhooked it and held it out.

Neither woman said anything as they both stared at the lightsaber of Obi-Wan Kenobi, fallen Jedi. Ahsoka did not take it in her hands, nor did Leia step forward to allow her a closer look. All that fell between them was an unspoken recognition that they had both loved the man who owned that lightsaber. And the weight of that was crushing.

"Ben is Obi-Wan Kenobi," Ahsoka said finally.

Luke took a step toward Leia, who bowed her head and dragged the lightsaber to her chest. She nodded somberly.

Ahsoka inhaled deeply. Her chest rose, and it fell. She nodded very slowly, her eyes cast beyond Leia's face, toward something else. Something he supposed none of them could see.

"I take it," Ahsoka said softly, "that he's gone?"

 _Gone_. Gone, gone, gone. Like Kanan Jarrus and Ezra Bridger.  _Gone, like he was never here at all._

Leia bit her lip, and she looked down at her feet. She nodded.

There was nothing Luke could do to shoulder Ahsoka's grief for her. It was raw, and it was all-encompassing, like a fire bursting from her heart and engulfing the whole room. She never let her shields down, not as long as he had known her, and now that he felt her pain, he wished it would stop.

Leia took a step back, perhaps feeling Ahsoka's sorrow collapse around them, spitting embers in the Force as she reeled her emotions back in. Her face never betrayed her true feelings. She did not even shed a tear.

"How?" she asked. Her voice was clipped, and the edge to it suggested that she was closer to tears than she let on.

Leia frowned, and she clipped Obi-Wan's lightsaber back onto her belt. "It was just yesterday," she said, watching Ahsoka warily. "On the Death Star. He was killed by Darth Vader."

Not for the first time, Luke wished he knew what Ahsoka was thinking. Her face did not betray any of the great sorrow she felt, and he knew that she felt it. It was hard not to share in this experience of horror, of guilt, of despair that toiled within her, because empathy between Force sensitive beings was natural. Luke knew this. He had spent days lounging in the  _Ghost_ 's main hold, reading Ezra by emotion only, and sometimes going whole hours without speaking to the boy because they could feel each other in the Force. Not quite telepathy, but a heightened form of empathy.

It was the same with Ahsoka.

"I see," Ahsoka said softly.

She seemed distant and morose, and the more she basked in the presence of Leia Skywalker, the more her eyes glazed and her face waned. She became more and more a dead thing— a relic, or a fossil of an age that had been discarded. Luke had been so sure that Ahsoka and Leia had to meet, that he had no care for the consequences.

But now he knew how wrong he had been.

Consequences be damned? What had he been  _thinking_?

"We should go," Luke said suddenly. He took Leia's arm and wheeled her toward the door. "We promised Han and Chewie that we would help with ship repairs, since he did come back for us."

It was not even a lie. The realization of that dawned on Leia's face, and she swore under her breath.

"Last time I make deals with a pirate," she muttered, snatching up her jacket and folding it over her arm.

Luke pressed his hand to her back as he ushered her out, throwing a careful glance back at Ahsoka. She seemed consumed in her own thoughts, and hardly noticed them leaving.

"I'll speak to you later," he said.

She did not meet his eye, and she did not respond.

They exited Luke's room quietly, their heads bowed and their shoulders hunched. Leia did not meet his eyes as she spoke softly, carefully, with a familiar sadness clinging to her words.

"That is not how I expected to meet another Jedi."

Their feet shuffled as they moved at a sluggish pace through the narrow corridors of the Massassi temple. Luke's voice was caught in his throat. He had so many questions, and he imagined Leia felt the same. There was so much pain in Ahsoka's eyes, and he knew they could not begin to unravel her mysteries until they first let her be.

"I've known Ahsoka," Luke said finally, once they reached the hangar where the  _Millennium Falcon_  was anchored, "nearly half my life. She has always been a bright, starry beacon in the galaxy, no matter what hardships she's faced. And she has faced many."

Leia slumped. He did not doubt that she already knew this just by looking at Ahsoka— by feeling her overwhelming sorrow— and that likely made her reconsider any questions she may have had for the ex-Jedi.

"Well," Leia said with a sigh, pushing forward with an unexpected jump to her step, "I can't dwell on it. If she wants to talk to me, tell me stories of my father and Ben, fill in the blanks in my training— then she's welcome."

She strode without reservation, forward and forward until they had reached Han and Chewie. She flung her yellow jacket over a spare crate, and began to roll her sleeves over her elbows.

Luke leaned heavily against the parapet of the  _Falcon_ 's ramp, watching Leia don a pair of goggles and peer up at the top of the ship where Chewie was crouched.

"And if she doesn't?" Luke asked.

Leia's eyes trailed back to his face. She did not look sad, or even distressed at the suggestion. She merely shrugged, and she dropped her goggles over her nose.

"Then I just have to cope with that," she said.

And then she vaulted up onto the side of the Falcon, her jump carrying her higher than Luke's head and attaching her to a cranny that was built into the discolored stern. Her feet dangled in midair for a moment, beaten old boots lifting and catching against the detailed ridges of the  _Falcon's_  back paneling. She hefted herself up and stepped carefully over the battered top of the old starship.

Luke stood by and watched, wondering if his assistance was even needed. He was a fair mechanic, but as he observed Chewie and Leia work, nonverbally passing one another tools, quickly moving on from one project to the next with nothing but vague gestures to suggest what to do next, he realized he was outmatched. These two would get the repairs done quickly, and he would only be in their way if he tried to help.

Not too long later, Han strolled down his ramp, and he spared a glance at Luke. He'd discarded his medal quickly, like Leia, and quirked a brow at him.

"What'cha doing, Your Worship?" he asked, swinging around the side of the parapet parallel to Luke's and craning his neck up at the top of the  _Falcon_. "Admiring the view?"

"Yes," Luke said, pushing off the ramp and stepping away. "Chewbacca really is lovely."

Han met his eye, and his smirk was wide and knowing. The sound of a blowtorch wailing from above gave him the confidence to step forward and sling his arm around Luke's shoulder.

"You know you can tell me," he said, raising his voice ever so slightly so his words fell into Luke's ear. "I can keep a secret!"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about."

Han shot him an incredulous stare, and he flung his hand up above his head. "You  _know_ ," he said. "You! Her! The whole nine yards."

"I'm not really looking for a relationship," Luke said.

"That's what they all say."

He did not know how to explain to Han that he was too busy for a love life, and that he had figured out too late the one time he'd ever actually had a crush on anyone. That wound was still so fresh, and he didn't know how to handle it. It was so inconclusive.

 _Gone_. What did gone even mean anymore?

Luke shrugged Han off him, and he turned with a brisk twist to face him. He peered into Han's face, trying to understand why he was so concerned with who Luke's occupied heart seemed to be pining for at any given moment, and it dawned on him with a sudden, inexplicable glee.

"You  _like_  her," he said, taking a step back and holding up a single finger. A small, knowing grin passed over his lips as Han's smirk flew off his face and he reeled back defensively.

"Excuse me?" He scoffed, and he tucked his thumbs into the loop of his belt, rocking onto his heels with a hunch. "A guy like me and a girl like her? Buddy, that's a match made in hell."

"Oh, you overestimate yourself," Luke said brightly. He reached out and gave Han a quick, assuring pat on the arm. "Just give it some time, you'll be keeling in submission."

"That sounds terrible."

"It was a joke," Luke said, closing his eyes so Han did not seem them roll back into his head. "But also, I'd listen to her. She's got good instincts, and will probably save our lives. A lot."

"She's not telling me what to do," Han declared. "Not now, not ever."

The hiss of the blowtorch abruptly stopped, and they looked up at the sound of sliding fabric. Leia leaned on her belly over the side of the  _Falcon_ , her goggles on top of her head and her eyes glittering.

"You boys talking about me?" she asked. She looked, for what it was worth, delighted to be talked about.

"In your dreams, sunshine," Han spat. Leia's face fell, and she squinted at him for a long moment before decidedly turning her attention to Luke.

"When's your evac scheduled?"

Luke opened his mouth, but Han cut him off sharply.

"Oh-six-hundred," he said. Luke looked up at him, puzzled, because if he recalled correctly that was not his evac time. But then Han stepped up, and he continued haughtily. "And you best believe you're coming along, princess."

"I can't," Leia said, tilting her head at him curiously. "I have to fly my X-Wing out. My squadron's out at oh-four-hundred."

"You should probably sleep, then," Luke suggested. "It's getting late. You only have what…?" Luke didn't have a chrono on him, but he could guestimate by glancing outside. "Five hours until take off? What are you still doing here?"

Leia slid down head first, and Han stifled a shout beside Luke as she flipped in midair and landed in a crouch. "Uh…" She swiped at her forehead, and grimaced at the trail of grease that slid down her temple. "I like to fix stuff. When I'm nervous."

"What's there to be nervous about?" Luke asked.

The tell tale feeling before hearing of Ahsoka's presence probed at his mind. He stood still as Leia looked past him, her dark eyes growing heavy as she frowned. The moment the corners of her lips turned downwards, Luke heard the clipped movements of Ahsoka's leather sandals. Her feet padded softly as she approached.

Han turned first, half-twisting his body and turning his chin up slightly in amusement when he realized Ahsoka was taller than him.

"Well," he drawled, thumbs tucked and shoulders hunched, "hello there."

Ahsoka paused to glance over Han briefly, her blue eyes flicking from his head to his toes, and then turning forward without a word.

"Leia," she said, her voice clear and distinct, like a drop of water plopping into a lake. "I want to apologize. I was not fully in my own head when we spoke earlier."

Leia merely tilted her head. She pulled her oversized, beaten brown gloves from her fingers, and she smiled up at Ahsoka. "It's not a big deal," she said. "You were just shocked. People process grief in different ways, and I don't expect you to be over it immediately. I'm not."

Ahsoka peered at Leia, her expression a cross between curious and touched. She smiled at her gently, and she shook her head.

"There is…" She glanced up at the ceiling, and sighed a little. "There's too much that I don't know. That I can't know right now. You'll forgive me if I'm a little distant, I just… never expected to meet…"

A small, sheepish spark of amusement glinted in Leia's eyes. She made a sweeping gesture of herself, and tilted her head.

"Me?" she said, almost slipping into a faux-curtsy. Her grin was wide and contagious, and both Luke and Ahsoka laughed. Han merely stood, his brow furrowed, and watched them all uncertainly.

"Well," Ahsoka said, "when you put it that way. Yes. You're an anomaly, Leia Skywalker."

Leia's smile was broad and knowing. "Yes," she said. "I bet I am."

Ahsoka considered her for a moment, looking over Leia's features with disbelief gleaming in her eyes and drawing her jaw downwards. Then she shook her head, and turned to face Han.

"I'm actually here to ask if I can join you during the evac," she said. "I've been informed that my vessel is being confiscated, due to its use as a spy ship. Draven was about as happy to see me alive as one can expect."

"Oh, you've met with Draven?" Luke couldn't help the dissatisfied smirk that twisted on his lips. "How was that? Lovely, I imagine."

"Don't start," Ahsoka sighed. "He's suspicious about my apparent rise from the grave. How am I supposed to explain that I was involved in a freak accident on a Sith planet, and healing required my undivided attention for three years?"

"You don't," Luke said calmly. "I'll fix it. Draven can't do anything to me."

"That's sweet, Luke, but you're not a general," Ahsoka said, folding her arms across her chest and sighing. "I'll figure something out. It's not like they can turn me away— it seems like the Jedi shortage is growing narrower by the year."

Luke, for what it was worth, did not wince. He stared forward, his chin tilting upwards and his breath quick.

"So you were told, then," he said, careful not to meet anyone's eye as he spoke. "About Ezra and Kanan."

"I was told the official story, at least." Ahsoka's fingers drew over her elbows, and she stared far ahead too. Her shoulders slumped, and her brow creased in a small, desperate sort of way. "I don't know what to feel right now. When I lost the Jedi— when I lost my Master— it seemed easy to compartmentalize. I had too much to think about, and I was on the run. I could only really mourn when I was alone in some shack or another, and even then I couldn't quite reach any real grief within me. I felt cut off."

"I understand," Luke said. And he did. Truly. He looked up at Ahsoka, meeting her eye, and he knew that she knew that he was possibly the only person alive that could grasp the immense hollowness she had felt during the immediate aftermath of the Jedi Purges.

She reached out, and she smoothed his hair back from his forehead, and cupped his cheek.

"You were always too brave and too wise for your own good," she said, with the fondness of a mother or an aunt. She stroked his cheek with the pad of her thumb, and then let her fingers fall away. She faced Han, and allowed her hands to land on her hips impatiently. "Well? Can I join you?"

Han looked unsure, with his lips twisting and his chin jutting out to the side. "Eh…" He looked between Luke and Leia, who watched him expectantly. "I mean, it'll be kinda cramped, but—"

"Four seats," Leia said. "I'm not going, so you'll be fine, right?"

Han frowned. "Well, I guess—"

A sharp howl from above cut Han off sharply, and they all looked up in alarm as Chewie dropped down from the top of the  _Falcon_. Beside Luke, Ahsoka took an enormous step back, a gasp perched on her lips. She gazed at Chewie in wonder as he thumbed his chest, and howled once more.

" _What_?" Han gasped, leaning forward briskly and squinting up at Chewie. "You  _know_  her?"

"Of course he does," Ahsoka said, moving forward in two quick strides, a blinding smile pulling on her lips. "Hello, Chewbacca. You haven't changed a bit."

Chewie's yowl was quick and bustling, like a chortle. Ahsoka looked down at herself, and she rubbed her cheek with a sheepish laugh. "Yeah," she admitted. "I guess I've gotten a lot bigger, huh?"

"Wait," Leia said, holding her hands out inquisitively. "What's happening?"

"It seems like Chewie and Ahsoka know each other," Luke said. Leia glared at him.

"Yes, I caught that," she said. "But how?"

Chewie had gathered Ahsoka up in a great hug, and she'd returned it happily. His reply was a sharp, drawn out sound, and Han merely frowned as he shook his head.

"He said that they'd escaped a death trap island together," he said, his voice dry and brutally disbelieving. "I swear, the shit this furball comes up with."

Ahsoka pulled back from Chewbacca, her head tilted to the side. "It's true," she said. "Chewbacca probably saved my life— and the lives of two other Jedi younglings."

Chewie nudged her gently, and his howl was slow and soft. Ahsoka closed her eyes before turning to face him. She shook her head mutely. Chewie's next noise was nothing but a small, pained whine.

"You trying to tell me that you're a Jedi too?" Han asked coldly.

Ahsoka met his gaze, and her eyes were colder.

"I am not," she said firmly.

Han shot a glance down at the lightsabers at her belt. He looked up at her face again, and he threw his hands into the air.

"Okay, then," he said. "Not my problem. So, you're riding with us?"

"That's right."

Han gave her a long, curious look, and then he nodded.

"Well," he said, stepping up onto the  _Falcon's_  ramp. "Come on in."

Ahsoka looked vaguely amused, and she shot a glance at Luke as if to say,  _get a load of this_. But she followed Han anyway, stepping quickly and moving up the ramp after him.

Beside him, Leia wiped her forehead with her wrist. She blew some stray wisps of hair from her eyes, and met Luke's gaze.

"I should go," she said. He nodded, somehow unable to believe that she was leaving without him. It felt like they had been together so much longer than forty eight standard hours.

He took her arms and pulled her close. Her head fit perfectly beneath his chin, tucked into the crook of his neck. He squeezed her tight, and felt her stiffen and then relax beneath his touch.

"May the Force be with you, Leia."

She drew his arms around his chest, and she squeezed him tight.

"The Force is always with me," she said.


End file.
